


Nothing More Than Simple Anything

by scifinut



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Magic-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 42,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6731929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifinut/pseuds/scifinut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It appears the young Lord Stark has captured himself a god. What could he possibly want with it?</p><p>This is the tale of the intrepid mix of heroes who go about trying to save the god and ensure stability to the source of all magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Will hopefully update every Monday.

The sky was angry. Angrier than she had ever seen it. Usually there would be portents before a storm this bad, but this one seemed to come out of nowhere. It was too late to make it back to her cottage, hopefully it would survive. Her new apprentice should be able to recognize the signs. She had taught him the basics of securing everything before a storm. She only hoped he wouldn't hold to the foolish notion that she would return before it broke. She had told him repeatedly that if he was there alone when a storm came on that he was to lock everyone out, even her. Weakness out here in the wildlands would only end in more bodies to bury. Rain by itself was nothing to worry about but a magic storm could destroy everything she had and there was plenty she had that was not ready to be released into the world yet.

There were caves nearby. She knew them well. It wasn't the most ideal protection but it was better than standing out and letting the storm take her. There was barely time to get inside and put up the most basic protection before it came.

For a few minutes it was peaceful. A nice calm spring rainstorm, nothing to be afraid of. Someone wanted to catch travelers unawares then. Marauders, bandits, thieves. But how could they have such control over the sky itself? Unless they had a mage who had given himself to their directions. It was almost unthinkable. She closed her eyes and rested. Wards of protection were woven in with the branches and twigs she had used to block off the entrance of the cave. She would know if someone or something tried to enter. This cave was far enough away from the roads that it wasn't likely, and the cottage was even further into the forest.

A scream tore through the sky. It was not just angry, it was in pain. Someone was tearing the sky apart. She dared a glance outside. Drops were falling, large and red. The color of her hair, of rust, not of blood. She had seen the sky rain blood before, it had been nothing like this. It had been a trick conjured by the hermit magician. Harmless.

With a shudder she realized the direction the storm had taken. It couldn't have been coming from the road, that was the opposite direction. It was coming straight from the Magic Wastes. Something had angered the very source of magic itself and the gods were pissed about it. There was no way now to check the wards on the cottage, she was too far away. The wards here were holding, nothing was fighting against them to get in. Small favors, she supposed. Anything that hadn't been inside when it started probably wouldn't be walking anymore right now. What few animals there were here knew better than to be out in the open for storms. Travelers were warned and those who ignored the warnings were usually looted soon after the storms passed. The lucky ones were dead by then. She'd seen more than a few wanderers through her part of the forest after a storm, walking aimlessly with a blank look in their eyes.

It passed quickly, the fury dissipating into the air. She tested the air outside. There was still the crisp feel of wild magic but it was no longer dangerous. Now she had to get back to the cottage and pray that everything had been secured properly.

Clint was waiting on the front step when she returned. She could see the tracks in the mud where he had been pacing from the doorway to the trailhead into the forest, though he would probably deny being worried if asked. "Where have you been?" he asked.

"We needed more fruit. With some of your recent attempts to learn spells I couldn't risk getting any near here. Too much loose magic. Can't risk it. I got to a cave. How did you fare?" She walked past him into the house and began emptying her bag. There were at least five different kinds of berries. Some were for eating, others were for dyeing fabrics, and yet others were to make into medicinal compounds to sell next time she went to the city. Or, rather, next time Clint went to the city.

He followed her and helped her sort. He hadn't yet learned which berries would be for what but they were easy to tell apart. "I did what you told me. Get inside, shutter the windows, bar the doors, throw as many protective wards as possible against it all, and pray." She hadn't taught him to pray, that had been the upbringing in the city. Still, it never hurt, at least if the gods listened. That's what Bruce always said anyway. He was a smart man. She'd have to pay him a visit later and bring Clint along. It was time the two of them met. "Was it bandits?"

"No, it came from the Waste Lands," she said calmly. Though magic storms weren't all that uncommon, storms from the Waste Lands were rare. She only remembered one other in her lifetime and she had been a very small girl at the time. That was when she lost her mother and her father had become something closer to one of the wandering idiots than the man he had been before. "We survived, that's the important part. We're here. How's the broth coming along?"

Clint jumped up and hurried into the kitchen. The pot was hanging over the hearth, boiling down the last of the bones and fat from their last hunt. Natasha always liked to keep broth on hand, it was one of the easiest ways to make a potion base. It hid a lot of flavors that would otherwise make a potion impossible to swallow. "It looks good." He stirred it, the fat was starting to stick to the sides of the pot and some had sunk to the bottom, but it wasn't a disaster. "Should be ready tonight."

"Good. Tomorrow we go check on Bruce. You need to meet him, I need to talk to him."

He came back and continued sorting the berries. "About the storm?" There wasn't much else that would be a new topic of conversation. She had just been to see him last week. He had only seen her visit him six or seven times in the past year, though she always said he was a wonderful resource in case of emergency.

"About the storm. And I told him I'd bring him some soup base." She grabbed one of the bowls of berries and wrapped it in waxed cloth. "Take the red berries, that bowl there. Go wash them all in the cistern but don't crush any of them."

He stared at her. "Wouldn't the stream be easier?"

"Probably, but the stream is teeming with all sorts of excess wild magic from the storm and the cistern has wards of protection built into it. I need to know exactly what kind of magic is getting into my potions if we're going to keep selling them to the traders. If one thing goes wrong my potions will be banned from Toso and then I'll only have one line of trade, and that's if Errip doesn't ban them as well. Bad idea, poison the clients you're trying to heal." Errip was a distant city but much larger than the one they lived by. Its markets were welcoming and she had friends there who would sell her potions for as long as they could.

Right. He should have thought of that. "Yes ma'am."

Natasha took her time to look around while he was outside. The rest of the berries could be washed tomorrow but those she needed to start preparing tonight. The wards in the house were still strong, he had done a good job of holding them while she was gone. She hadn't wanted to take an apprentice but he had saved her life. He also had a great deal of skill and couldn't stand the Council of Mages. That was always a plus in her eyes. He had zero experience in the wildlands but was a quick study and eager to learn. She owed it to him to keep him alive as long as she could.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Clint find out just what the storm was all about. Clint gets to go to the neighbor's house.

Early in the morning Natasha loaded up her water skins with broth to take to Bruce. It would take them until mid morning walking to get there. Clint would follow her without a word if he needed to, but he wouldn't be able to recreate the path. Bruce had warding set around his house and it was accessible only to those he trusted with the secret.

Natasha smiled at a yellow bird in a tree. It was a species that had nearly been hunted out of existence. Their feathers were a supposed protection against magical curses. It was a ridiculous superstition, nothing more. Tradition, though, was hard to break. She was glad to see one. Her own personal superstition was that if she saw one, the day would end up being better than planned. She had yet to be wrong about that.

They arrived at a small cottage late in the morning. "Bruce," Natasha called out as they came up the path. "Are you in?"

"No," came the gruff reply from inside. "Give me an hour."

"Clint is with me."

"Give me two."

Natasha turned and motioned for Clint to join her. They wandered around the woods aimlessly. Natasha knew her way back to the cottage and they were in no hurry.

"Why do you let him do that?" Clint asked. "I mean, just tell you he's not there. He was obviously home."

"Sit, listen, and pay attention. This is the only time I will ever speak of it, you will never ask again." She waited until he was comfortable until she settled down against a large tree. "Do you remember what I told you about the magic out here?"

He nodded and recited from memory. "They don't call this the wildlands for nothing. It's not like cities where everything is controlled and regulated. The magic out here is stronger and has a will all its own. Do exactly as I say exactly how I say it if you want to learn its secrets." It had been repeated to him every day for three weeks when he joined her.

"Right. And do you remember the difference between mages, magicians, and witches?"

The differences sometimes came down to subtle technicalities between the last two but it was mostly a matter of intent. It was another thing Clint had been lectured on several times. "Mages have made a cult of magic and keep it from the people. Magicians use force to better themselves so they can bring knowledge to the people with the possibility of bettering themselves in the process. Witches control the natural flow of energy and harness it to better the world. So long as it remains in balance they don't care for their own position."

Natasha had to admit Clint was picking up faster than she had thought he would. "Good. Bruce was a very well-respected magician until he got accused of sleeping with the Count's wife in Errip. Then he moved out here. Now when I visit Bruce and he says he needs more time before company comes in I take him at his word. I suggest you do the same." She was both lucky enough to have earned Bruce's trust early on by taking him in during a magical storm. It had been a mild one but would have harmed him nonetheless. He had shied from her touch at first and she feared at that point he was already half gone, storm touched like her father.

It hadn't been until the storm had passed and he ran outside that she felt something off about him. It was subtle but strong. Something inside of him was part beast already. He had tried during the first storm to harness the magic and bend it to its will. It had instead bent him. He had gained exceptional control over what he called his inner beast over the past two years but nobody was perfect. Natasha had known that the storm would bring it out in force and wanted to make sure Bruce knew that she hadn't come alone. If he said two hours then it would be two hours before he could rein himself in enough for company. She had sworn never to tell anyone what had happened to him. Telling Clint as much as she had was more than she had meant to. He was a smart boy, he'd probably figure it out on his own long before they got to Bruce's house. He was also smart enough to never mention it until it was brought up first. At least she hoped he was. There were days when the boy couldn't help but gossip.

"Come on, it's time to go back." They had been resting here for long enough, the two hours had just passed and it was still another twenty minutes walk back to the cabin. It never hurt to give Bruce extra time.

He was outside waiting when they returned. Once he had been a beautiful man living in a large city. The passing years had weathered him but had not completely taken away his beauty. "Natasha, hello," he said standing to greet her. He offered her a hug and slipped a note into her pouch as he did so. She nodded gently against him and he knew she wouldn't let the boy see it. "What brings you out this way?"

Natasha motioned Clint to step forward. He shook hands with the magician respectfully. "Hello sir, my name is Clint. I'm Natasha's apprentice."

"It's about time you two met," Natasha said. "I brought you some broth. You always ask for more so I thought I would preempt the request."

"Broth, thanks." Bruce turned to the eager young man in front of him. His face was open and hopeful, still full of enthusiasm for life. "What has Natasha told you about me?"

He paused thinking of the best way to answer. "She's told me nothing more than I knew from growing up in Toso. Her actions have shown me that you are a good man who carefully guards his privacy. You are still a powerful magician and I could most likely learn a great deal from you even through simple observation when I am allowed to visit. There is more in this world to learn than magical control alone." Clint was used to every question being a test not only of his abilities to recall what was told to him but to piece together other information and come to logical conclusions. He also remembered discretion and manners. Hopefully he hadn't overstepped his bounds, but he had no way of knowing how much freedom he was given to speak as the apprentice of a guest.

Surprise flashed across Bruce's face before it settled into a pleased smile. "So there is, Clint, so there is. You seem to be a bright young man. I'm glad to meet you. Come inside, both of you." He led them into the cottage. There were no walls inside. A bedroll was stowed carefully in a corner near the hearth. Cooking equipment lined the walls around it, stacked precariously and hanging from makeshift shelves and hooks. A large table filled the center of the room and there were five chairs crowded around it. There were notes and books strewn across its surface and onto the bookshelves built into the far wall. It was impossible to tell just what he had been working on, all the books were closed and the notes were written in some sort of strange cipher. There were few in the world who could understand it, it had been a private cipher from Bruce's master when he had apprenticed and had been handed down the line of magicians for centuries. He had taught Natasha how to read it. It was unlikely that he would ever take his own apprentice out here, she was the closest he would get.

Natasha set her bag carefully on the table and removed the water skins. She knew where to hang them beside the hearth without being told and did so before settling down into a chair. "It's good to see you alive and well after yesterday. I hope you weren't caught out in it." She knew he wasn't. He knew the signs of an oncoming storm as well as she did, possibly better. The woods offered plenty of places to hide if one knew where to look.

He sat beside her. "No, I managed to get home in time. Just barely. The blood rain started just after I shut the door." He looked over at Clint, still standing inside the door. "Please, have a seat." He gestured to the three open chairs. 

Clint glanced at Natasha and waited for her to nod before sitting. Even in the house of another it was best to wait for her to agree to something before he did it. He had often seen wayward apprentices whipped for listening to another before their master. Natasha hadn't ever been cross with him if it wasn't a matter of life or death but it was probably best not to give her cause.

"It wasn't blood," Natasha said. "I don't know what it was, but it was just red."

Bruce shook his head. He stood and grabbed a cup from a shelf. "Blood," he confirmed setting it in front of her. "Dilute, but still fresh a day later."

Natasha put her hand over the cup feeling the energies in it. Her reaction was immediate, she pushed herself away from the table violently and ran outside. Clint was after her in a second, kneeling beside her in the dirt. She tried to weakly wave him off but he stayed where he was and let her lean against him to gain her bearings. Bruce was sitting back at the table when they went into the house again, the cup of blood was nowhere to be found.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't sure myself but if it was just red water where you were and it was that strong here…" He trailed off with a weak smile.

"You should have warned me." Natasha was still glaring. She was furious at Bruce, he had no reason to keep that information to himself and let her find out in such a way. "I need to know who. And who we're dealing with, the summoner."

Bruce shook his head. "I don't know on either count." He had less sources of information than Natasha did. Given time there was a possibility that he could figure out who the blood had belonged to. Most of that would be seeing how long it lasted and how it reacted to various spells. Consulting the mythology books would do no good, names were constantly changing. "Give me time, I'll work on the first part."

Clint saw Natasha's face twitch. "We may not have time." Her voice was calm but he could tell that she was extremely upset. Something was going on, something big. As much as he wanted to know what it was there was no polite way to ask and impoliteness was not tolerated. If Natasha needed him to know she would tell him. Besides there were times when not knowing the dangers one faced was not necessarily a bad thing. Natasha stood and collected two of Bruce's empty water skins to trade for the broth she had brought him. "We'll go now. Find me as soon as you know something. And be careful."

Bruce stood and embraced her gently again. "You tell me as soon as you learn anything. And I don't know what you're talking about, I'm always careful."

"I'm serious," she said angrily. "This isn't a game."

His features softened. "I know. I will. You as well." He turned to the apprentice. "Walk with me, we'll be gone only for a few minutes. Natasha still has a few things to take care of before you go."

Clint followed him out the door and into the woods silently. He had never seen Natasha that upset, not even when he nearly burned her cottage down or mixed the poison berries with the edible ones. When they were just out of sight of the cabin Bruce turned to face him. "Two things. First, here is a small sample of the blood. In case you or Natasha need some. You'll fare better carrying it with you." He handed Clint a tiny vial with a few precious drops of red liquid in the bottom. "Keep it wrapped in this," he said, handing him an oilcloth. Runes were burned into the edges and a few along the center. Clint could tell it was meant to dampen the effects of whatever it contained.

"Thank you." Clint wrapped the vial and stowed it inside his shirt in a pocket he had sewn in.

"I'm going to lay my hand on your head and show you something now. Don't be afraid." Clint nodded. Bruce's hand was warm and callused and it covered Clint's entire face. He was forced to close his eyes and the moment he did he could feel something change. He heard Bruce mutter a few words too quietly to be understood before he removed his hand. "Open your eyes. Follow me and watch for the signs." They went back through the forest. Bruce silently pointed out various features on the trees and ground. Clint hadn't noticed it before but they seemed to glow brighter the closer they got.

The cabin itself was glowing brightly, a beacon through the trees. This had to have been what Bruce did to him, gave him the ability to follow the signs he had laid down. There were probably other sigils put down beside the directional ones warning outsiders away. Nobody would be able to see those but they would work just as well. A person could travel for years in the woods and never find Bruce's cabin. As they entered the clearing the glow subsided and Clint was able to see the cabin as it was. There was a bit of a brightness to it if he looked in another direction but it wasn't nearly so overwhelming as he thought it would be. "Thank you," he said. Bruce had shown a great deal of trust in him by giving him this ability.

"I trust Natasha. She trusts you. That's all it is. Don't come by unless it's an emergency and if I say to go away, go away." Bruce looked out over the forest as he spoke. He could well have been addressing the trees themselves. "If the worst were to happen and you lose her come find me immediately."

It was an interesting choice of words. Clint wasn't likely to lose Natasha. One of the first things she had done was to imprint both of them with a directional charm attuned to the other. It wasn't nearly strong enough to overcome the sigils that protected this place but Clint could always have pointed to her. It was impossible that he would lose her unless she died. But magicians did not mince words. If he had meant to say to find him if she died he would have said so plainly. "Are we in danger?"

There was a long silence. Bruce turned and looked Clint directly in the eyes. The expression on his face chilled Clint to the bone though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why. "Clint, we are always in danger. We live in the wildlands, magic storms occur on a regular basis. The creatures that survive here could kill us all. Townspeople shun us and hate us. Disease or injury could take us at a moment's notice. Bandits could shoot us when we walk out to get food and water. And after yesterday that is the absolute least of our worries. Do as Natasha says, don't question her. We may yet get through this." He turned back to the cabin and headed inside.

Natasha was out within a minute. She raised an eyebrow at Clint. He fell into step beside her for the walk home. The visit had given him a lot to think about. He was certain that Natasha would quiz him on it all at some point to see what he had learned. The thing is he wasn't sure. Something had bled into the sky, into the storm itself. Bruce's was closer to the Magic Wastes than their place, and Natasha had been even further away. The storm had come directly from there, it hadn't been caused by roaming bandits provoking the wildlands' magic into protecting itself. The problem of the blood still bothered him. He had seen it fall and had recognized it as blood. Natasha had said it wasn't blood. Bruce's sample was still fresh a day later and still potent enough to cause Natasha physical discomfort.

While it was true that witches tended to avoid blood magic and any sort of ritual that used it they had also learned that the blood of certain magical creatures had properties that could be quite useful. It was a careful balance and all had to do with how the blood was sourced. If it was come by naturally and had been left to sit out for a time it was generally considered safe. The more magical the creature, though, the longer the blood had to sit and go stale before they could handle it. Stories had been passed down that even unicorn blood only required at most two days to weaken before it could be used. At its strongest it might provoke a reaction half as severe as Natasha's had been, Clint had seen her forced to use fresh blood and she had managed to hide her discomfort at the time.

So something had happened to an extremely powerful magical creature within the Magic Wastes. It had to have happened fairly close to the edge of the wildlands to get the blood nearly pure to Bruce, still recognizable as blood to Clint and weak enough that Natasha didn't recognize it. It was also blood that hid its magical properties until probed directly. The strongest blood that he had ever seen Natasha encounter, and it wasn't unicorn blood. Unicorn blood hadn't been seen in centuries, it wouldn't ever come from the sky, and everything ever written spoke of its delicate pale green color.

"Tell me what you know about the blood," Natasha said.

"I've been thinking about it," Clint said. "It came from a very powerful magical creature at the edge of the Magic Wastes and the wildlands. It's probably what caused the storm in the first place. Magic's will to protect its own from any outsiders."

"I didn't ask about the storm, I asked about the blood." It was the first time Natasha had ever chided him for taking the initiative to explain how he came at his answer or display what else he had learned. He was absolutely right, the storm and blood had both come out of the same creature.

"Was it a dragon?" It was the only thing he could think of that would be able to bleed high up enough in the air that it would be caught up in a storm. Dragons hadn't been seen in this world since long before the unicorns disappeared. It was nearly unthinkable that a dragon would return or that someone would be able to hurt one so badly that it would cause such a storm. Natasha's stony silence made him rethink his idea. "Okay, so not a dragon then? It couldn't have been a unicorn. Manticore blood would stale before a day was up, sphinxes absolutely detest the Magic Wastes and much prefer their own home over the sea."

"Think bigger," she interrupted him.

"Hydra?"

She stopped and turned around to glare at him. "Be serious. Hydra aren't real. What was it?"

He swallowed uncomfortably. Natasha was intense on a regular basis but not like this. "I don't know!" he shouted. It stung. He should know, she had to have given him all the pieces. She wouldn't have asked if he shouldn't know, right?

"Good. Next time admit it sooner. It was a god's blood, now we have to figure out who managed to summon and injure a god." She turned around and started back for the house.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Clint wanted desperately to know how Natasha knew it was god's blood, how a god could get injured, what one was doing so far out of the Magic Wastes that they called their home, and what the hell did she mean by who summoned it. He also didn't want to be yelled at any more. It made sense though, her reaction to the magic in the blood. God's blood had never been tested for how fast it would stale because nobody had ever tried to work with it. And if the blood had come by malicious forethought, even if it had fallen from the sky to be collected, it would hold the anger and be even more uncomfortable for Natasha.

When they did reach the house Natasha went straight to her books. Clint went to take her bag and empty it as he usually did when she didn't immediately do so but she slapped his hand away. "Leave it," she commanded. "Go gather water or start preparing supper." The note from Bruce was in the bag along with a few other things. She didn't want Clint seeing it even if there was no way he would understand it. It was a quick note probably penned after the first time they arrived at Bruce's house filled with hasty speculations. Bruce could figure out who the blood was from, she had to figure out how to contain a god, who could do it, and why it would be done in the first place. If it weren't for how distasteful working with the blood was she would have envied him his task, it was by far the simpler of them.

Clint did as he was told. He refiled the cistern with water from the stream, careful to strain it and say the correct spells over it to counter any other rogue magic. Natasha was still inside poring over her books. She had notes spread out across the table in several languages unintelligible to him. He wanted to learn, wanted to question her about who could bring down a god, but dinner wasn't going to make itself. She said she had tried that once. It never worked out as well as it was supposed to.

They ate in silence and Clint cleaned up in silence. Natasha was still poring over the books by lamplight when he went to bed. If she wasn't going to give him direction then tomorrow he would do everything he did if she weren't here. There was always more cleaning to be done, he had several spells he was to be practicing and several more he was to research. The garden was on his list for today, but that had been preempted by the trip to Bruce's, so he supposed tomorrow would be a good day to work on that. There was the stack of books by the front door for him to study in his spare time. His parents had insisted on it, though he rarely touched them. They were more for show, he could take one with him when he went back into the city. They never came to his stall in the market but would frequently walk by and look at him. It was still better than the outright disdain he had been treated with before he had taken a stand and done something with his life. Barely.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha tries to find out more about the god and ends up finding more about Mages.

Morning came quickly. Clint was not at all surprised to see Natasha still working at her books. He brewed her a strong cup of tea and made sure there was plenty to eat if she wanted before packing his bag and heading outside. All morning he spent tending the garden, gathering the food and sorting it carefully. Only certain quality items went into the stores from which Natasha made her potions, everything else was for eating. There was maintenance to be done on the house, he had felt a breeze most of the night. Probably from the storm the other day. Even if the magic couldn't damage the cottage, there was still the strong wind and rain to contend with. It was a simple matter of mixing up more daub to patch the corner of the window.

By early afternoon Clint was beginning to worry. Natasha hadn't touched any of the fruit he had left for her and had barely drank any of her tea. He grabbed a spare leaf sitting around and closed the book she was reading around it. She glared at him but the effect was lost as she yawned. "You've been reading for almost a full day. Step away. You need food and sleep, but I'll settle for one or the other right now. You have two more hours later this evening then a night's sleep."

"Fine. Bring me something to eat." He was right, she had been staring at the same paragraph for at least the last ten minutes trying to make sense of it. There were no easy answers in any of her books. Of course not, the gods were considered myths and legends by most people. Even the scholars debated their existence. If Natasha hadn't encountered that sample of blood she still wouldn't believe in them. She was carefully arranging all of her notes when Clint came back with food. He reached out to remove a stack of papers but she grabbed his hands. "I'm just organizing. Leave it." He backed off, still keeping a careful eye on her.

She finished the fruit. It was sweet and cool and exactly what she needed. Probably not enough. There was tea already waiting at her elbow. The fact that he had managed to put it there without her noticing said a lot about her state of mind. She wasn't going to be any good like this. Today was supposed to be potions so he could make a trip to the city soon. Too late to start on that, and she was too tired. She was likely to do it wrong and end up killing someone.

It was too early to go to bed. Besides which, if she did now she'd probably end up missing dinner. Missing meals wasn't a good plan out here. If she only had two more hours with her books she was going to make the best use of Clint's mind she could. He had begun his studies to be a mage and his brother had completed them. "What do you know about the aspirations of mages?" she asked. Witches wouldn't dare try to control the gods or bring them down to the mortal plane. Magicians didn't have the strength and most of them didn't have the desire. If they wanted to know something from a god they'd usually just ask. If they got an answer then all the better, if they didn't they would try to figure it out themselves. Even with all the raw magic potential in the world it took a lot of training to summon anything from the Magic Wastes. She couldn't imagine it was a simple task to summon a god, especially when his struggle had shed blood across the wildlands. Unless there was some new magical faction that nobody had heard of, it had to be the mages.

"They're very individual," Clint replied. "My brother said he wanted to be a mage so he could control the weather on our uncle's farm. Another boy who was a novice with me wanted to join to prove to his parents that the Magicians Academy wasn't the only place who would take him, he wanted to learn things they didn't know to prove himself better than them. One mage who was there wanted to know the secrets of transmuting matter. There was one a few years ahead of my brother who wanted to know all about the human body and how to heal all ailments, no matter how severe. He had lost his mother, his brother, his sister, and his grandfather all within the space of a few months, all from different sicknesses."

It wasn't the answer she had hoped for, but it was an answer. "Do you know if mages teach a limit to their powers?" Witches were careful not to exert too much power over anything to destabilize the balance of the world. Magicians wielded a great deal of power but it was very subtle and diffuse. She had seen Bruce do things she couldn't dream of doing because of the possible repercussions and he had called himself a magician of middling power. In theory she could have done any of those things and more, she was one of the strongest witches in centuries. Every time she went to another witch to learn something from them she was constantly reminded of that fact. They had all looked up to her even as she was learning the most basic spells and potions.

"I don't know. I never got that far into studies before I was kicked out." Clint had kept working while Natasha started questioning him but this seemed to be a bit more important than arranging the kitchen. He sat down beside her at the table. "I don't think so. I mean, Barney never mentioned any sort of limit. They are a pretty arrogant bunch, that's for sure. There was this one guy, pretty advanced in his studies, bit of a braggart. He always said he was going to use magic to change the world. When one of the professors asked him how he pulled out a little contraption he had made. Showed it off right then and there. It ran off of magic but he said it purified water. He took a glass, filled it with the filthiest water he could find, then poured it through this thing. It came out sparkling clean, perfectly safe. He seemed proud. Said it would even take the dangerous amounts of raw magic out of water, that's how it powered itself."

Natasha nodded absently. That was all well and good, a device that could clean water. It would only be able to power itself far away from cities. Within cities there wasn't enough raw magic left in the water for anyone to worry about it. But she didn't really need to know about people who were going to help out the poor who couldn't afford cities. She needed to find someone with much more ambition than that. Clint was still talking about this man and the various devices he had designed. Some of them ran on magic, some of them were purely mechanical, some of them seemed to be a hybrid.

"You should have seen it. Artificial fire in lamps! Completely enclosed in the glass, even. Yes there was still heat but the flame was steady. It's too bad he's gone now, I would have loved to hear from Barney about more of his inventions."

"Oh? What happened to him?" Letting Clint carry the burden of the conversation would give her more time to think about all the mages she had heard of.

"The official story is that his inventions went against some sort of rules or something. Rumors, though, are something else." He paused, trying to remember exactly what Barney had told him. The man had moved to Briyal hoping to get more preferential treatment for his views. "I guess he went mad or something. He was outside of Briyal, the mages there wouldn't let him in. He said if he had to he'd overthrow the entire corrupt system, he'd do whatever it took to prove them wrong."

Now she was interested. A man with a personal vendetta was always a solid lead for someone taking a god hostage. "What would he be proving them wrong about?"

Clint suddenly regretted mentioning the man. In order to explain it to her he had to explain how the mages looked at the gods. It went completely different to any of her beliefs and he knew how strongly she held her beliefs. "Hear me out here. One of the first things we had to learn was proper piety and devotion to the gods. I know you say they're just the source of all magic and completely uninterested in the world. The mages believe they're the source of power too, but they hold to the belief that the gods are active and interested in us. That when we do good deeds we get the blessing of the gods. That's why they always offer to help with the wars. They can't stop them entirely, but if one side has battle mages the war will be waged with a lower body count, which would please the gods and give us more power." Natasha scoffed at the idea but Clint continued. "Anyway, the high council apparently decided that the technology he created was an affront to the gods themselves. It took the power away from the mages themselves and gave it to the people that they were supposed to serve, it reduced the commoner's dependence on others for their magic needs."

Something triggered a memory, a conversation she'd had with Bruce several months ago. "And he said he'd prove them all wrong no matter what it took?"

"Yes," Clint said. "He disappeared about five or six months ago. Nobody knew where he went."

There was a long silence. Natasha had closed her eyes. The only way Clint knew she wasn't asleep was the way she was muttering to herself occasionally. He stood and went back to his work tending the house. There was no way for him to tell if she was communicating with someone, practicing spells, or just trying to keep track of her own thoughts. She would come and tell him what he needed to know as soon as she needed to, he was certain of that.

"Pack your bags," Natasha said. She hadn't moved from the table. "Now is a perfect time for you to take a trip to Toso. Find your brother or any of the other mages you know. Learn everything you can about this man who was banished. If they question why you want to know, tell them the truth. You are living now in the wildlands and you fear that someone has captured a god, if the wildlands fall to angered gods they will be coming to the cities next. You want to stop that while you can." It was a risk allowing the mages to know about a fallen god. They would want to come and fix it themselves. She knew how the high council worked, though. It would be months before any decision was made. There were procedures in place designed to keep them from making any hasty decisions. "If I'm not here when you come back, wait two days. If I still haven't returned, head to Bruce." She would only have to return to the house one day in three to catch him whenever he returned. "You leave first thing in the morning."

The mages weren't likely to tell him anything, he had been all but forcibly excommunicated when he had saved Natasha's life in the city. Barney may give him more information than most and perhaps with the story it would tip the scales in his favor. Without a word he went to pack his bags. Most of what he needed was money. "Am I to take potions to sell?" he called out to her. It would give him a bit more to spend if he needed it.

"Take what you need." She was busy gathering her own bags. Being able to leave for days at a time was freeing, it took her back to the days before she had an apprentice. As much ash she liked having someone else around there were places that he couldn't yet go. She would head there first and cast out feelers to see if any of the other witches in the area knew anything. Even though she was the youngest among them they all looked to her as a de facto leader. It could come in handy, she supposed, at times like this. They would both leave before first light.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally get to meet this God that everyone's talking about.

He hated this place. He hated the colors, he hated the weather, he hated the set of natural laws that were so different from his own, and he hated his captor. Somehow he had been summoned and bound before anyone had been able to stop it, though they had put up quite a fight. Still, being bound to this man was one thing. Cooperating with him was yet another thing entirely, one which he refused to do.

In truth he was still weak. The struggle against the bonds had taken a great deal out of him, he had bled across several miles of the outer lands. It was bound to be an unforeseen bounty to those who had begged and pleaded for blood for their magic. All they had to do was find it and it was there for the taking. Part of him was frightened, there was no telling what other mortals could do with his blood if they got their hands on it. It was bad enough being bound to this one man, but competing bonds would be so much worse.

"Are you ready to talk yet? Tell me your name?"

He looked at the man, his new de facto master. He was of middling height for this area of existence with short dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. The potential he had for summoning and controlling magic was above average. What set him apart was the personal dedication and focus. Many didn't live up to their potential because they lacked self-control. They would do what they were told by their betters and never once reach beyond what they were taught. This one was different, he dared to challenge the gods and won.

"Look, I don't mean you any harm. I know I've said that before, I'm repeating myself, but aside from the first unfortunate incident, have I done anything to cause you harm? All I need from you is to come with me, talk to a few people. Then I'll release the spell and you'll be free to go. I won't even put any sort of weird countermeasures in so if you want to kill me immediately you'll be able to." The man knelt beside him with a water skin and held it up. "I don't know if water is something you need, but most people around here need it to survive. Please have some."

If he weren't controlled by this man he could kill him with the flick of a wrist. Send him flying across the sky and let him deal with the landing himself. He hated being stuck here in this form, it was uncomfortable and oddly shaped. At least if his captor's reaction was anything to judge by he had been trapped in a fairly attractive body. Last time he had come to this realm he had terrified any who had seen him. He didn't have time to plan his appearance this time, it was pulled at random from the cosmos and thrust upon him. Or perhaps it was chosen by his captor. If he had seen a graven image with similar features it may have influenced his current looks.

The dark haired man sighed. "I'll introduce myself. I'm Tony. I'm…well, I was a mage. They kicked me out. Not that it really concerns you, I'm sure you have better things to do than worry about a mage who was kicked out of the guild, right? I don't even care if I'm ever reinstated at this point. I can go off and do whatever I want. Even if they decide that I'm never to take an apprentice or pass on my heretical teachings I'm alright with that. All I need to do is prove to them that I'm right. You're the only one on this planet who can help me with that, friend. I need you."

He bristled with anger. What did this man think he was, an accessory to be donned when the need appeared only to be tossed aside again afterwards? He had possibly been permanently fused with this form due to sloppy spell craft and over-application of force, he would never survive the journey home. What good would freedom be when he was still bound by the physical laws of this land? He would never submit, never give in to this man's requests. When Tony died he would be free, assuming nobody else had taken any of his blood and saved it to capture him. It was a limited freedom but it was still free. If he was to be trapped in this plane of existence for all eternity he was definitely not going to acquiesce to his captor's requests, no matter how simple.

Tony let out a sigh. He drank the last of what was in the water skin and sealed it up. "Alright, come on then. We've got to get going if we're going to make it to a city." He stood and adjusted the straps on his various packs and bags. The god sat unmoving at the base of a tree. Tony stared at him. "I'm trying to do this the nice way. I could try and make you come with me. I don't know how well it would work or how comfortable it would be for either of us. I'm guessing middling at best and extremely." It was an empty threat. He could try, but it would only anger the god further. They both knew he wouldn't try. Tony sat against a tree facing him and thumped his head back against it. "What will it take for you to trust me?"

"Your death." It was the first words the god had spoken since being summoned nearly two days ago. "Nothing less."

"Yeah, sorry, friend. That's not going to happen until after you cooperate. I promise once this is all over you'll be first in line to kill me. Even if I do manage to get a death sentence from the high council I don't think they'll challenge you for the honor." He removed a few of his bags and dug around in one of them. There were a few small loaves of bread and some hard cheese. He broke one loaf in half and began eating it. "Do you want something to eat? I've got bread, cheese, some old apples, a bit of dried meat."

The god looked directly at Tony then turned his face away. If he could have twisted his body without reopening the gash along his back he would have. Leaning against the tree gave him strength. He needed food from his own realm and time to heal this wound before he was able to go anywhere with Tony. It would be another day yet at this rate of healing before that happened, he had that time to make a decision as to whether he would follow this man.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets to meet this god that everyone's been trying to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long holiday weekend, which of course messes with my usual posting time. Have a chapter a few hours early, guys!

Bruce stared at the sample of blood before him. It definitely belonged to a god and in theory figuring out which it was would be a simple matter. Different gods had various names across time but most scholars accepted that there was only a handful of actual gods, a dozen at most. They each had their own special set of powers when they arrived in this world. That would make narrowing the selection down a simple matter in theory. Then again nothing was as easy in practice as it was in theory. It simply didn't happen that way.

He had been running various tests since Natasha had left taking only short breaks to sleep and eat. Nothing was making sense and he was starting to get frustrated. Perhaps a walk outside would calm him before things got too bad. If he was to solve this he had to keep calm and not lose himself to the raw power that threatened to loose itself when he was under stress. He closed his books and headed for the door. As an afterthought he grabbed the container of blood and put a cap on it. Perhaps it would do some good to bring it along to see how it reacted to various things in the world.

The first place he had to go was to check on some plants he was growing. It was hardly a garden, more of a collection of a few herbs and spices that he enjoyed having around. Then he had to go check his snares. Natasha didn't like them, called them barbaric. She much preferred a clean kill with an arrow or knife. He kept as few snares as possible and never mentioned it while she was around. It was another one of the things that they didn't agree on but politely ignored about each other.

There was nothing in any of them but a few had been tripped. He reset them and moved on each time making his presence as unobtrusive as possible. He could have used magic to bring animals in to the traps, set lures that they couldn't escape, but he felt it was cheating. If he was going to do this he was going to survive on his own. Someday his magic might fail him and he wanted to be able to still provide for himself if that day came.

He reached the southernmost point of his usual walk. It was here he usually turned east to see if any wild fruits were in season. Seasons were a strange concept this close to the Magic Wastes, there was no telling when a snowstorm might hit in the middle of what should have been summer, but for the most part the weather stayed relatively temperate. Bushes and plants bore fruit year round sporadically so it was always easy to keep himself fed even if the traps were failing.

Something inside him urged him forward today. He continued south, leaving the range of his protective wards. It was territory he wasn't very familiar with. If another magic storm came up he would most likely die before he found shelter. Still he pressed onward until he heard a voice ahead. He dropped to his stomach and crept closer using the bushes and undergrowth to conceal him. Ahead in a tiny clearing were two men. One of them was wandering around and offering the other one water. He froze, unable to move. His hand gripped the container of blood inside his pocket. It was warmer than it had been before and he could feel the energy contained inside it. One of these men had to be the god.

"I'll introduce myself. I'm Tony. I'm…well, I was a mage." The darker haired man said. He was the one who had been wandering around the clearing. An excommunicated mage, it made a lot of sense. So the other one had to be a god. Bruce studied what he could see. The man looked like none of the images of gods that he had ever seen. He was tall and handsome which was to be expected when dealing with gods who weren't in disguise. Blond hair hung past his shoulders and his beard was untrimmed. It didn't surprise Bruce to see no visible injuries. It had to be quite a bit of work to harm a god enough to make him bleed in the first place, but the healing properties of gods were completely untested, he could be perfectly healthy and simply stubborn.

Some time before the sun set Tony left to go get some fresh water. He made his intentions known to the god who gave no response except to turn bodily away from the man. As soon as Tony was out of sight Bruce saw the blond man wince visibly and try to move. Apparently there was still an injury.

"Come out from the bushes," the god said. "I know you're there."

Bruce crawled out carefully. "Thank you for not saying anything sooner." He walked slowly to the god's side. "I can't undo the work binding you to that man. If I could I would do it without hesitation. Is there anything I can do to make your situation better?"

The god eyed him with distrust. "You have some of my blood. I can sense it on you. Return it to me."

Bruce rummaged around in his pockets and found the container. It was warmer now than it had been before. "How do you want this?"

He leaned forward exposing a long gash running up his back. "Pour it directly into the wound." He sighed in relief when Bruce did just as he was asked without compliant or question. The man's hands ghosted lightly over him whenever he needed to touch and Thor was touched by the kindness. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Bruce left one of his hands hovering near the god's shoulder in case he should need some help sitting up again. "I'm Bruce, by the way. I've been trying to find out who you were so we can find a way to free you." It was probably best to get the god on his side and the best way to do that was to tell him why he was lurking around with a vial of his blood. It wasn't a normal thing to do, wander around with god's blood. If someone had an ingredient that rare it was usually kept under lock and key with nobody else knowing it even existed.

Thor sat up. It took him a great deal of effort but with the infusion of his own blood his healing would speed up. "Pray, friend, tell me, how many are you?" It would take a great deal of power to free him from Tony's magic. The man was careful and wouldn't easily allow himself to be killed before his mission was completed.

"Right now, three. Hopefully Natasha is working on getting more support. It's kind of a spur-of-the moment thing, and none of us has many friends or associates." It sounded pathetic when he put it that way, three loners trying to take on a mage powerful enough to command a god. He took a step back and jumped when he felt a hand on his wrist. The good was staring at him. "Sorry, it's not much, but it's all we have."

The god looked wild-eyed around the clearing. "He is returning. Go. Take this as a token of my protection." He summoned a small stone inscribed with three runes, one of his common names. Any man who would return his blood and admit to weakness in trying to rescue him was to be trusted more than his captor.

Bruce held the stone and stared at the god. "I can use this to find you?" The god nodded at him. "I will return. I promise. Give me time." He turned and ran the way he had returned before waiting for an answer. The stone and vial were thrown back into his pockets. He didn't stop running until he was well inside his protected area.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hi, Steve.

The blond knight knelt before his King. He had been summoned here for a special quest but he had no idea what possibly it could be. A few of the Kingsmen from distant parts of the Realm stood beside the King on his dais as well as three members of the local Mages Council. Briyal prided itself on not bending to the mages' every whim but when a majority of the council showed up somewhere, especially to advise the King, people tended to listen for any scrap of information they could.

"Sire," said the knight.

"Rise," the king drawled. The only reason he let Steve get away with such formality was the fact that there were others present. Away from the court he was said to be a very relaxed knight, even going so far as to be quite familiar with his squire. At the court, however, Steve would insist on formality with him if there were nobody left on the entire world. The King would allow the motions without too much difficult so long as there was a good reason for it. "Steven, I'm certain you are aware of the recent arrival of Kingsmen from Toso and the meeting of the Mages Council?" the king asked.

Steve nodded. "Of course. Kingsmen usually come after a storm. I remember seeing the effects of this one, even as far infield as my own home." He dipped his head in acknowledgement of the Kingsmen. They were supposed to be a sort of guard service loyal to the King, whoever that happened to be at the time. In reality they were more like messengers. The Mages Council he was much more familiar with, he had worked with them a few times on various problems had cropped up in the past year. The entire Council rarely came to a decision but when they did they were a formidable strength that the King would rarely disagree with.

"They are here about the same event, Steven. It is the storm from late last week."

"Can you tell us what you know about the storm?" one Mage asked.

Steve shrugged. "Not much. It must have been bad to affect us here. I've been told it came from far south in the wildlands, though I've never been further south than Errip and have luckily never set foot in the wildlands. The effects here were weak enough it did nothing more than make the grass more prone to attacking anyone who walked through it for an hour or so." Sentient plants were a phenomenon well known. They were almost always extremely angry but little could be done until the spell wore off. Luckily they were plants and fairly well-rooted, they couldn't get up and around to attack anybody.

"We have reason to believe that a young man has angered the gods and shaken the very foundation of magic itself," another Mage said. "He was recently barred from the Mages Academy here after being excommunicated in Toso. He is extremely skilled and most likely dangerous. He may have a captive with him who should also be considered extremely dangerous."

The King looked at the Mages then back to Steven. "If it weren't absolutely necessary I wouldn't send you to do this. We need to bring the mage and the captive here. The mages fear that the captive is bound by strong magic, it would be extremely unwise to attempt to free him in the field."

"I understand." Steven looked at the Kingsmen. "You're from Toso, correct?" The man nodded. "The storm must have been pretty bad down there." He looked back across the dais at the Mages and the King. "Am I walking into any danger aside from the man and his captive? Will there be lingering effects from the storm that I need to guard myself against?"

"We don't think so," the third mage said. He sounded much younger than the other two. "Most of the lingering effects from a storm should pass. If there are effects, it will be from new storms. They may come strong and fast, you must be prepared to shelter immediately. We can spare nobody to protect you."

The Kingsmen took a breath. "We may be able to spare a few men when you arrive. They are familiar with the land and can guide you around, though I doubt they will go up against a mage who can summon a storm that strong."

It was an understandable exception. If a mage could summon a magic storm so strong to be felt in Briyal all the way from the wildlands near Toso, he would have to be quite strong. No doubt there were few who would challenge him. "Do we know who this man is that I'm setting out to capture?" The more information he had at his disposal the better off he would be.

"Tony, Lord of Stark Hills." The King's face betrayed his disgust as he spoke. The last Lord of Stark Hills had been perfidious at best. He had sold arms and weapons to enemies of the Kingdom under an obscure clause in the trade treaties and agreements. His son was no better, an upstart convinced that everyone should bow before him because of his strength with magic. He was strong, it was true, but strength over magic did not make him a good leader of his land. "Be on your guard, Steven. This man has a silver tongue, worse than his father before him. He will convince you with his words that the ground is above you and you walk on the sky below."

Steve nodded. "I understand." He looked back to the Kingsmen. "When do you plan on returning?"

"Immediately, if possible. I must get back to Toso and give the order to find the source of the storm."

"Wait for me by the Southern Gate. I need a few hours to prepare. I will travel with you, and my squire will come along." In truth, James was nearly ready to become a knight himself. His help would be invaluable along the journey, as it had always been for Steve. "We will be there as quickly as possible."

The King stood and everyone else stood more at attention. "Very well, Steven. You are dismissed. See that you bring Lord Stark in quickly, and do not let any harm come to him or his prisoner."

"My lord," Steve said. He bowed deeply before he left. It would have to be a very quick mustering of equipment and supplies if they were to leave that evening. There was a great deal of work to be done and not much time to do it in. He rushed home and informed James of the plans to travel immediately. James would handle packing all they needed from the home and would be waiting at the gate. He had much to do in the city.

It was a close thing but he was at the gate that evening. James was waiting for him, conversing with the Kingsmen. "Are we ready, Sir Steven?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "We are. And we're going to be in close quarters for several days. Call me Steve." The Kingsmen stared, mouth agape. "I don't stand on formality among my friends, only in court. And if we're going to be traveling all the way to Toso at a fast pace we will have to be quite friendly. Call me Steve, this is James. What should we call you?"

"Uh, Tim," the man said. "Call me Tim."

"Marcus," said the other one.

"Alright, Tim, Marcus. I've sent word to the stables up the road for mounts. Do you need ones as well, or do you have your own?"

Tim paled. "I've never ridden astride a horse before, sir." It wasn't a thing that Kingsmen did, they walked wherever they needed to go. Horses didn't tolerate being in the wildlands so the regiment from Toso rarely had the opportunity to learn. There were a few stables outside the city but they were so costly to hire a horse from that it was rarely worth the expense.

Steve paused for a moment. "Right. We'll give the gentlest to you. James, you and I will split his gear between us. Tim, trust me, don't argue this. You won't want to manage huge saddlebags if you're learning how to ride. The important thing is to remember that the horse knows what to do. You'll be in the middle, he'll be following my horse, everything will be fine." Teaching one of the Kingsmen to ride wasn't part of the agenda. "Marcus, how about you?"

"Grew up a stablehand, sir. Don't own my own horse, but I've been around them plenty. I'll be alright."

"Good." It would still be a few days before they reached Toso and could begin to regroup to find this Lord of Stark Hills.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint returns home for a brief visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be here next week, so two chapters tonight!

For as kindly as Clint spoke of his family to Natasha he didn't actually enjoy being around them. His parents had always been downright cruel. It wasn't ever anything that would leave a mark to be noticed by teachers or other adults but it was no less terrible. Barney had offered him what protection he could as they grew up but it was hardly enough to spare Clint the insults and occasional starvation.

When Barney had left for the Mages academy in town Clint was left without a shield. He wasn't sure if the abuse actually got worse or if Barney had just been taking on more than he had known. Clint swore at that point that once he left he would never return to his parents' home willingly. He would rather suffer public disgrace and exile than return to that situation. He would never tell anyone what had happened, nobody would believe him. His parents were well established shopkeepers and were respected and loved by most of the people in Toso.

Barney, meanwhile, had fallen in with a group of students who were raised in similar homes. To the instructors and higher level mages they were perfectly respectful and never stepped out of line, but they terrorized the junior students and anyone they thought was beneath them. Clint had been targeted when he joined the Mages Academy until Barney had stepped forward to protect him once again. When Clint called him out on how he was treating people and compared him to their father Barney had all but disowned him. He wouldn't actively partake in the abuse of his brother but he never spoke up to stop it either.

One of the mages in Barney's gang had been named a full Mage, no longer a student. He was given a minor position on the city council that was being abandoned by another mage. Within months the city council had passed decrees stating that any and all persons wishing to sell any sort of device, potion, cure, tincture, or other use of magic designed for use in the home or business by those who did not possess the power to create such magical works on their own had to register with the Mages and be offered licenses. Licenses were easy to obtain if the person could prove their training or had a long record proving the safety of whatever they wished to sell and could only be revoked if their products proved to be dangerous. Clint got one, he was still working odd jobs around town and occasionally worked at various spell shops and assisted in making potions. With the gang broken up things were looking up at the academy as well.

It all changed when they caught the witch. Clint had seen her in the marketplace occasionally, she was a good person and her potions were highly sought after but she had never been notified of the changes in Toso's laws regarding the selling of magical items. They brought her before the council and magistrates. She was the first and only case of someone caught trying to sell things without a license and the punishment hadn't been set at that time. The Mages petitioned for her to be put to the test, a cruel punishment that ran the prisoner through a gauntlet of obstacles that usually ended in severe injuries or death. The magistrates weren't sure, it was a serious punishment for a seemingly minor offense but once again Barney and his gang raised their ugly heads. They convinced everyone that if the punishment wasn't serious it would leave open the possibility of a black market and in that case what was the point of having the licenses in the first place? They argued that licenses were simple enough to obtain and she had simply refused to do so.

Clint had to sneak into the meeting. Technically he had standing to be there. All shopkeepers were welcome, and as his father never went he was able to act in his stead. The mayor had asked if there were any objections and despite himself, Clint stood. This was an honest woman, he pointed out. The only crime she had committed was ignorance of the law. She didn't live here and wouldn't have known of it. Rather than punish her with something that would possibly leave her for dead he offered the alternate punishment of banishment.

She had stared at him the entire time he spoke. It had made him self-conscious but all the more determined to convince the mayor and council that banishment was a much more fitting crime than the gauntlet. She was lucky that they agreed with him and planned to set her free first thing in the morning. He was not lucky to have suggested it. That evening he had been taken into an alley and beat severely by masked men. He could recognize all but one of them, they were fellow mages in Barney's gang. His parents' home was nearby and he crawled through the door, bleeding and swaying. His mother had come down at the sound of the door and had stood in the staircase staring at him while she called his father. He was promptly disowned by both of his parents for daring to question the council's decision in his father's name. The moment he stood and spoke he became an official representative for his father and his business.

Clint had nowhere else to go. If he returned to the Mages Academy the bullies would finish the job they had started. He had no home of his own and all of his possessions were at the academy. His parents were kind enough to give him the few things he had left behind but it wouldn't last him long at all.

He had gone into the woods to wait for the witch. She was limping slowly having received her own roughing up before being deposited outside the city gates. He had stayed by her side from that moment on aside from occasional trips back to Toso. His license to sell magical items had never been revoked because of the strict rules governing when a license could be revoked. His education at the Mages academy guaranteed that until the potions injured someone he was safe to sell them. He would always ask the guards on his way in if there had been any recent changes in the laws to ensure that what had happened to her wouldn't happen to him.

The guard on duty today was a young man named Samuel. "It's a bit early in the month for you yet, isn't it?" he asked in greeting. "And no, there have been no changes to the law recently."

Clint grinned. "Maybe I just felt like giving the mages something to gossip about."

"Oh, speaking of those bags of hot air, one of them is giving a speech in the town square tomorrow morning. Nobody knows what it's about but it's probably about the storm that happened a few days back. Things went strange in the city for a while, everyone's been nervous since then."

"Thanks, Samuel. I'll check it out." Samuel was one of the few guards he didn't mind stopping and talking to for a while. Sitting here also gave the rumor mill time to start flying. By the time he entered the city proper word would have gotten to his brother's gang and he had made a game of guessing who would stop him first and what pretense they would give this time.

He headed through the winding back roads of the city. It wouldn't do any good heading to his parents' house or to the Mage Academy, they would throw him out if he proposed to stay there. He had come to an agreement with an innkeeper in one of the better parts of the city near the market. She gave him a discount on his room and board while he was there and in return he helped out with whatever needed helping. Some evenings he helped rub down the horses in the stables, some nights he carried food out to patrons, some nights he just sat at the front door and looked intimidating to keep bar fights to a minimum. He never knew what Sara would have him doing, that was half the fun of it.

She was bound to still be asleep at this hour so he dropped his bag in the stable with the head groom. "Hey, it's not a market weekend, but I need a place to stay for a few days. Can you let Sara know when she's up and around? I'll be back probably shortly after noon." The groom nodded. He couldn't speak very well, the byproduct of a kick to the jaw, but he and the innkeeper had a system of hand gestures that they both understood. Clint had tried for years to learn them but was mostly unsuccessful. "Thanks."

There were announcers everywhere telling of the speech the following morning in the town square. It was the head of the local Mage Academy and it promised to be interesting, if for nothing else than the fact that Clint could blend into the crowd and listen as much to them as what the Mage said. He made sure his face was seen by enough people in the city that there was no possible way for his parents or his brother to not hear about it. They'd look for him in the marketplace but he wouldn't be there. His parents weren't likely to search the city to find him. Barney might if he put up a big enough fuss at the speech tomorrow morning. It was careful work, doing it without being too disruptive, there was a real risk of being jailed for a disturbance of the peace. There was an even bigger risk of being taken in by the Mages themselves for disturbing their peace. He'd rather not be a part of either of the two.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha heads north to meet up with some other members of her coven.

Natasha was traveling through the woods as fast as she could, given all she was carrying. Food and water for several days as well as any changes of clothes she might need and any other various and sundry things that might be useful. Dorothy was the closest witch to where she lived, directly north. She was not known for being overly kind to anyone. When Natasha arrived she was waiting outside, finishing an intricate plait on her long white hair. Years ago it had been blonde but the color had gradually seeped from it.

"Natasha," Dorothy said. "You're here about the storm?"

"Dorothy. It's good to see you survived it. Someone's summoned a god against his will, it would seem." Pleasantries could be had at any of the other witches homes she had to visit in the next few days. Dorothy was never one for them, it was absolutely useless to try. "Have you seen anything strange happening?"

The older woman scoffed. "We live in the wildlands, if I haven't seen something strange it's because I'm dead." She stood up and headed for the door. "Humans, summoning gods. Come back next time you've got another tall tale, girlie."

Natasha pulled a small pouch from the large traveling bag at her hip. "How else do you explain this?" she asked. When Dorothy turned back she tossed the pouch at her. Inside was a vial with a few drops of blood she had taken from Bruce's sample. It was a small enough amount and was put in a bag that shielded most of the discomfort from having it so close. She watched impassively as Dorothy tried a few simple charms to see what was in the vial and nearly fell over with sudden disgust. She stepped forward and picked the vial directly from Dorothy's hands and tucked it safely back into its pouch. "That was what fell at the home of a friend of mine. He says it's been diluted and I have no reason to doubt his words." She wasn't sure how much it had been diluted, if he had even done any of it himself or it was just what had fallen directly from the sky. It didn't matter.

"What was that?" Dorothy hissed as she steadied herself.

"That was the blood of a god. It fell from the sky during the worst of the storm a few days back. Someone has captured the god. With that much blood fallen, probably forcefully. With no immediate retribution or wilding of the magic around us, he's probably been taken as a prisoner and bound. He may still be alive, and I'm trying to find out if anyone has seen anything strange leading up to this. You clearly haven't. I'll leave you be." Dorothy's home was only a few yards from the most trafficked road that ran north and south through the wildlands. "Live well, Dorothy. I hope to see you again."

Leaving so hastily was a calculated risk. Dorothy was the second oldest of the witches in the area. While most of them did look up to Natasha as a leader of sorts due to her magic power, Dorothy had the most knowledge of any of them. She wasn't a good woman to anger at the best of times but it was impossible for Natasha to visit any of the other witches without passing her home. Passing by without stopping was only acceptable when Dorothy wasn't in. Any other routes would add days to the trip and run a greater risk of bandits. She could hold her own in a fight but would prefer not to. It was just so distasteful.

Mags was next along the road, some three hours further straight north. She was nearly as old as Dorothy but nowhere near as difficult to deal with. If Mags was up for it, they could probably make it all the way to Ana's old home. Ana had died last year leaving her husband to run the place, though he was nearly as good of a witch as Ana had been, and was now the oldest in the area. Mags and Edwin had a long friendship and could communicate over long distances. Mags could easily ask if Edwin could shelter them for the night. It would be a very long day of walking and talk would have to wait until tomorrow.

Natasha decided not to plan that far ahead. If Edwin would take them they would go. If he wouldn't she would stay with Mags for the evening and talk with her. Edwin would be a one day trip in and of itself, there and talking to him and back, and Mags would put her up again. She would. There was no question in Natasha's mind. Any of the witches, excluding Dorothy and Edwin, would put her up without hesitation. Edwin and Dorothy would if it was a matter of danger, though Dorothy would likely complain about it loudly later on.

The day was mild. Sun shone down through the trees dappling the roadway. It was little more than a dirt path here, very few carts or teams traveled north or south through the wildlands. There were much safer roads to take for that. She was unsurprised to make it all the way to Mags' house from Dorothy's without seeing a single person.

A crow squawked from a tree, loud and hoarse. Mags was nearby but not in her home. She looked up at the crow. "Hello there Danny. Can you let Mags know I've arrived?" The crow fluttered down from the tree and landed on Natasha's shoulder. "Or you can keep me company."

She envied Mags the ability to keep a familiar. Intelligent animals tended to avoid the wildlands if given the choice. Mags had befriended Danny decades ago. Her magic kept him alive and well and their friendship kept him nearby, an extra set of eyes to watch over the property.

"So, she'll be home soon then?" Natasha held an arm out for Danny to hop down. He would sit on her shoulder all day if she let him, but conversations were much easier to have face to face, such as it was. He squawked and bobbed his head up and down. "Wonderful, thank you."

Mags arrived in a few minutes, rushing around the corner of the house. "Natasha, thank goodness it's you. Come along, hurry. Edwin said to be on the lookout for you. I don't know how he knew you were coming but we've got to get up there tonight. He has something he wants to discuss with you." She had her traveling gear on already, a large pack slung over her shoulders and sturdy shoes. "Danny, you stay here. Keep an eye on the place. If Dorothy comes, peck her damned eyes out, alright?" The crow hopped about excitedly and flew up to a low branch.

"It's good to see you doing well," Natasha said. "I'm ready whenever you are." It was going to be a very long day on her feet, and running on not enough rest at that. If it weren't for how dire the situation was she would insist on eating and a short break, but gods didn't get pulled from the sky every day. And Edwin knew many people in many places. If he was already planning on having them along it would have to be important.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Thor get some more time to bond as they begin their journey.

Tony groaned. Sleeping in the woods had never been a favored pastime of his, despite how his parents tried to influence the people they had hired to raise him. He still didn't know the name of the god he had managed to capture. They were still within a three hour walk from where he had performed the spell. He had wanted to be long gone by now but the god had other plans. It had wiped out nearly all of his strength to capture him in the first place, there was no way he would be able to force him to do anything for a while yet.

The spell hadn't gone unnoticed. He was certain of it. Nobody could have missed that storm, even in Toso. It could have been felt as far away as Errip. They each had a contingent of Kingsmen. Word would travel quickly to Briyal and orders would be given to find out the source of the disturbance. It's how it always happened. Even if it was just a normal storm, the Kingsmen always went to find the source. With how independent Toso was it was the most action they got most years. Repeated trips to the wildlands to make sure that nothing untoward was happening. Except this time it was happening, Tony was at the center of it, and he really just wanted to get out of the area before the Kingsmen appeared. They wouldn't look hard but they wouldn't ignore two men who didn't belong here.

He placed a wild apple in front of the god. "Eat." It was another reason to get out of here. He was too far away from Briyal to find a favorable trading outpost for more food. Toso was a bad idea, too many people knew him and he wasn't a likely to be a person they remembered fondly. "We have to go today. As much as I would love to sit here until we get found by whoever comes along, I'd really rather not starve to death doing so. I'm offering you food and water. You don't seem to be suffering ill effects from not eating or drinking but it's also quite obvious that I'm eating and drinking the exact same fare I'm offering to you. I'm not trying to kill you. I need you alive."

Magical coercion of the god wasn't possible, but maybe Tony could just tie him up and drag him along. He'd seen plenty of sledges carrying travelers who had been caught out in magic storms or attacked by bandits. He was reasonably healthy and could easily fashion such a thing. He had the fabric and string, the sticks would be easy to come by. Even without cutting the trees down or injuring them, there were plenty of sturdy branches that had fallen recently.

The god stared at him as he paced the clearing. Tony had not been harsh to him or treated him ill since he was dragged here. He could detect no dishonesty in the boy's tale, though he was less versed in mortals and the lies they told than many in his family. He had granted many a prayer only to see the supplicant take the gift they were given and turn it to evil purposes. Yes, it had been centuries ago in human terms, but he had distanced himself from them in the intervening years.

Tony started pulling the branches together and laying them out on the ground. He looked up at Thor constantly as he did so, then adjusted the sticks accordingly.

"Save your effort, I will not be dragged around as an invalid," Thor said. He stood for the second time since falling to this realm. His back had healed nicely thanks to the return of his own blood. He was still weak, but even at his weakest was stronger than the humans that littered the area. In truth he had been stalling. The man who had come and promised rescue had a talisman that could locate him but it was always easiest to stay in one place. That way he would know exactly where to start the search.

"He finally decides to play along," Tony snapped. He had begun lashing the wood together at the corners, ready to tie his cloak across it afterwards as the main body of the fabric. "Well thank you so much. Do you need anything? Food? Water? Anything that won't put your status as my captive at risk?"

Thor strode across the clearing. He passed Tony and entered the forest proper. "I will acquire my own sustenance." It wouldn't be easy but there were a few things here that could give him nourishment. Even if there weren't, he would last a long time without needing anything more. He would die before he accepted any food or water directly from Tony. "Where do we travel?"

It was a good question. Tony hadn't thought it through too far. Right now he was far south of Briyal. Taking the main roads would be dangerous, as would bringing a god outside of the wildlands. He had no idea how the god's inherent magic would interact with the realm. There was a road that ran north through the wildlands and would get them much closer to Briyal. He had traveled along it for years as a youth, every time his father's man had returned to his own wife. He had brought Tony along in order to keep him under close observation. It was too much hassle to hire another person to raise him for two or three months a year, much easier just to take him along.

"North. We'll travel for a few days then head east. You only have to stay with me as far as Briyal. We'll talk to a few people there, you'll answer a few questions with complete honesty, then you'll be on your way." Traveling through the band of witches huts was going to be another interesting proposition, but it was still infinitely preferable to the main roads. Between bandits, Kingsmen, and witches he'd always take the last of the three. He knew them. He knew he was more powerful than them. He knew he could defend himself against them. He knew he would be fine going through their land.

Always the same story. Go to Briyal. Answer questions. Thor wanted to know what questions he would be asked so he could prepare for them. Tony's mind was clouded to him. He couldn't see within and was not about to ask the favor of preparing himself. If Tony had wanted to let him know hat questions were going to be asked he would have done so. The man seemed nearly incapable of quieting himself. Even in his sleep he muttered and twitched. Thor did not sleep. Thor rested, his eyes closed, but he was constantly awake and on edge here. This strange world with its limits on everything. He longed for his own realm, his home, with feasts and family, shapes that changed whenever you looked away. Things were much more fluid there, he hated the rigidness of this place. Even the magic was dull and muted here.

They headed off on the hike. Tony had several packs and seemed loaded down by them. Thor let him carry them all. He had no stake in any of Tony's possessions making it to Briyal safely. If Tony wanted to bring it along he could manage the logistics of bringing it along. He was unencumbered and free to move about as he wished, though if he strayed too far from Tony things became increasingly uncomfortable. A byproduct of the spell used to bind him to Tony's will.

Tony tried to keep up a conversation but it was increasingly obvious that Thor was not going to converse. He paused often, tilting his head this way or that, listening to something that Tony couldn't perceive. It was frustrating to say the least, but by midday he had stopped any attempts at talking. If the god wanted to be so taciturn fine, so be it. He would still offer food and water at every mealtime, whenever he took of any himself. If the god kept refusing him, well, at least nobody could accuse him of not being perfectly polite to a god. Manners were important in such situations. He'd learned enough about perfectly acceptable manners growing up. Though he had never actually dined with a Count, he could still to this day remember the order of silverware in a proper table setting, the importance of washing one's fingers before attempting to eat any food with them, and the fine but subtle art of small talk. He still wouldn't forgive Mr. Jarvis and his parents for making him go through such ridiculous training. Oh well, easier to not forgive them if he never had to see them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I've been traveling and having some massive car troubles, but they should all be fixed as of tomorrow, so hopefully posting before late evening on Mondays! Thanks for sticking with me so far.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha speaks before a meeting of her coven. There's a bit of infighting. Decisions get made. Ish.

By the time Natasha and Mags had arrived at Edwin's house they were too tired to even speak. Beds were already waiting for them and they were asleep within minutes.

Edwin was up early and had been up for hours by the time Natasha rose. Mags was still sleeping peacefully so he motioned Natasha to follow him to the front room. He had a strong tea prepared. "Thank you," she said.

"Natasha, it's good to see you again. You should come visit more often," he said. "And while I'm sure whatever brought you here is urgent, let's wait until we're all awake and ready to discuss it." Her fidgeting belied her impatience. "There will be time enough for discussion when the others get here. I sent word yesterday. Dorothy seems to be the only one not coming."

Natasha managed to bite back the comment that came to mind. It included the words 'cantankerous bitch', but probably wasn't a good thing to say aloud. "I've spoken to her. She knows why I've come north and apparently wants no part in it."

Edwin shrugged. "She always was a bit catty," he said. "Pay her no mind. We'll be enough without her." He unfortunately had a very good idea of what was happening. The portents had been strong long before anything had actually happened, and the ferocity of the storm confirmed it. With any luck he'd get all of the witches of this area mobilized and ready to do whatever they could before the boy and whatever he had managed to capture arrived. The Mages weren't nearly organized enough to mount a defense so quickly. Magicians were scattered and leaderless, there was no use asking them for any assistance. "For now, what of you? I heard of the business in Toso. Nasty tricks those Mages played."

She shrugged. "I didn't think to check if anything had changed. Besides, I got an apprentice out of it. He's useful, he can still sell potions and manage my business in the city for me. With the traders I have in Errip it saves me a lot of time for doing other things like continue my studies."

"Where is he now? Does he know what's going on?" If there was a political leader among the witches in the area, Edwin was it. He knew almost everything that happened before or as it happened, but he wasn't infallible.

"That's part of what I'm here to tell you. If we're going to wait for business until everyone arrives, I'll wait." It would be bad enough that she had an apprentice who had gone to the Mages Academy and that she was friends with a magician, it would be worse having to explain it all multiple times.

He nodded his agreement. "Help yourself to breakfast. I've eaten already." Mags would want nothing more than the tea. She would be awake soon, everyone else would be arriving within a few hours. Timothy and Gabe were already near, he had sent word to them with plenty of time. They lived nearest and would likely arrive soon. Jacques he wasn't sure about, but Monty would probably make it.

By lunch all four of them had arrived. Edwin and Mags served a simple meal and made sure everyone was comfortable before they began. He motioned for Natasha to start. She had come the furthest and had evidence in her possession.

"Thank you," Natasha began. "No doubt you all noticed the storm several days ago, worse than most we've had." Some of them nodded. "Someone has captured a god." There were a few gasps. Natasha looked at each of them before pulling the small vial out of her pocket. "This is his blood. A diluted sample, I'm assured, collected as it fell from the sky. If any of you would like to examine it you're more than welcome." Unsurprisingly, none of them took her up on the offer. "I have a friend, a magician of quite some skill. He's looking for clues as to the god's identity. My apprentice is alerting the Mages in Toso that a god was captured. They will still have at least a month of passing messages and deliberation before any action is taken. We must act now to avoid any retaliation on the part of the rest of the gods."

"And what do you propose we do in the meantime?" Gabe asked. He didn't like this talk of gods. The world had been unsettled enough when he had been a young man, a war with the gods was not something he was looking forward to.

"That's up for debate. I plan to return home, help my friend and my apprentice. Maybe we can find the god and whoever captured him, free him and send him home. Make sure whoever did it is brought to justice."

"I may be able to offer some insight there," Edwin interjected. "You all know I once worked under the Lord of Stark Hills and helped raise his son. The boy showed a great deal of potential and Ana and I tried to bring him about to the ways of the witches. He, however, was proud and joined the Mages instead." This was all old news, it had caused a bit of a stir at the time. Most of the older witches that lived in the area remembered the boy fondly from when Edwin would bring him on his annual trip home to visit Ana. "I have kept a close eye on him since his father died. I have reason to believe he is the one who summoned the god. I have further reason to believe the god is being bound to Tony against his will."

There was absolute silence. Nobody could believe what they were hearing. Someone strong enough to bind a god? It was unthinkable. "Are you certain?" Mags asked.

Edwin nodded. "I have monitored him for some time now without his knowledge. He has gone nearly mad with his inventions. The Mages will not allow them, he is convinced that the god will side with him." He was never willing to admit how he got his knowledge but nobody doubted it for a moment. If Edwin said he was certain than it was as good as truth.

Monty's face had twisted into a grimace. "How do we stop him?" He lived closest to the Magic Wastes and would be the most affected if the gods waged a war on the humans.

"I'm afraid short of helping him achieve his goal or killing him, you don't," Edwin said. "Changing his mind is no easy task and he decided long before he actually managed to complete this summoning exactly what he wanted to do." Of this he was less sure, he had no facts to back him up, but did have the experience of dealing with him for years as he grew. Tony was one of the most stubborn people he had ever met.

"What is his goal?" Natasha asked. The more she could get out of Edwin at this meeting the more she would be able to take back to Clint and Bruce. If nobody came with her and all she took back was knowledge then she would get as much as she could.

Gabe shook his head. "What does it matter what his goal is? He's bound a god. Even if we wanted to stop him, we don't have that kind of power." He had only seen strength like that a few times and had shied away both times. It was only used to destroy, nothing good came of something so strong. "All we could do would be to kill him. Are you willing to kill?"

"To save this whole world from the anger of the gods? I might be," Mags said. "If anything would push me towards violence it would be this."

"You don't have the heart," Gabe sneered.

Mags leveled a cool gaze at him. "You forget my past," she said. "Men from Briyal raided my village, killed the men, said they'd come back the next day to finish the job. I led the women to fight for their homes, their husbands. I've killed before and if it means protecting my home, I will kill again."

"Enough!" Edwin shouted. "There will be no more talk of killing. It is out of the question. I will not see that boy murdered!"

There was another long awkward silence. "So we capture him, what then?" Jacques rarely spoke. Usually when he did it was a definite statement.

Edwin sighed. "Bring him to me. Bring them both to me. I may be able to reach him, convince him that whatever he plans is unwise. If that fails we should all be enough to free the god from whatever binding he is under. If we work together it is possible."

Natasha nodded. She didn't favor the killing method but with any luck she would be able to return home, get Bruce and Clint, and the three of them could find some way to break the binding. Involving the rest of the witches was wise, any repercussions would affect them as well and she had received much more information than she had thought possible. That didn't mean she had planned on any of them returning with her and helping out with the action. They were all well into the age where traveling at a quick pace was difficult. Mags could possibly keep up with her and Gabe could easily match her. Gabe, though, rarely left this small outcropping of witches and Mags had said time and again that her adventuring days were long since over.

"And what of the god? How will we convince him that we're not part of this man's plans? How will we convince him to return to his home in peace and not punish all of humanity of one man's pride?" Monty went off of the assumption that they would get the boy, bring him here. A lot to assume, but every possibility had to be accounted for before the witches would be satisfied.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint returns home, only to be questioned by the Mages.

Clint had secured a prime location to listen to the windbag in the morning. The Mage started out the speech by listing all of the local miracles that Mages had managed, reminding everyone in the crowd that it was due to the Mages and their constant work within and alongside the city government that crime was down, accidents caused by wild magic were down, accidents caused by intentional magic were down, curses were down, everything was just fine and dandy. Clint secretly wondered what exactly was going on. If all of these reassurances were necessary then something pretty bad had happened recently. Still, it gave him the opportunity to ignore the Mage and focus on the crowd for a bit. There were plenty of other Mages scattered throughout, most of them dressed in normal clothes, not in the robes they usually wore. They blended in and helped direct the crowd, cheering when it was supposedly warranted, keeping quiet at other times.

Several of the Mages had spotted him. He just smiled at them. There was no crime in being present for one of their big speeches. He hadn't been exiled from the city, he was a citizen and was free to come and go as he wished, so long as he followed all of the local laws.

As the focus of the speech shifted to the recent storm Clint started listening again. The Mage started with some interesting information and then went on and on about the recovery effort, how the Mages had protected most of the city and had formed a network of protective spells and barriers to keep the wild magic out in order to keep the city safe. It probably was true, the Mages would have defensive measures in place in case of magical attack or a magic storm, but either the storm had been concentrated right here at Toso or he was exaggerating it to make things sound worse than they were. It was honestly hard to tell. The Mages had a habit of overstating things that were relatively trivial into massive events and downplaying the actual serious events that happened. Everything ended up in the middle ground. Either the storm wasn't too bad or it was huge and the mages had an idea of what was going on.

After the speech was over the Mages all disappeared. Clint stayed at the fringes of the crowd. It was slow to disperse and everyone was talking about what they had heard. Some of the faces he recognized from the city, others were new to him. Toso was still a large enough city that he didn't know everyone and it was a convenient place to stop while traveling to or from the south.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder and pulled him close to a solid body. "So brother dearest," Barney said. "What did you think of the speech. Was it nice for once to hear civilized conversation again?"

Clint managed to bite back the smarts remark he wanted so badly to say. "I know what caused the storm," he said.

"Probably that witch whore of yours," Barney replied. "She messed up something and the gods got pissed off. When will they learn to just follow simple rules?"

It was a trick, a trap. If Clint was caught defending a known lawbreaker, an exile from the city, he could suffer the same fate she had. "Someone summoned a god," he said. "Probably bound him too. I saw the blood. It tracked halfway across the wildlands. I don't know of any witches who believe in the gods enough to try summoning one. I don't know any witches strong enough to succeed, either." He didn't mention to Barney now that he had a small sample of the blood. He'd use it to convince the Mages Council if he needed to, but for now he didn't want them getting their hands on it.

"A god, huh?" Barney asked. "What kind of crazy stories will you come back with next time?"

Clint shook free of Barney's arm. "Look, if you don't want to take me seriously, fine, don't. But I've survived in the wildlands for almost a year now. Do you think you could pull that off? Have you considered that maybe even if it's not a god that's been summoned it's something pretty damn powerful and the gods will be pissed about it? If you blow me off now and I end up being right I'll be able to go to every Mage in the city and tell them that I gave you warning, I told you what was going on, and you didn't act on that information." He waved across the square at a former neighbor, a kind man who also ran a stall in the market. "Mr. Everly has even seen us talking together. Nobody would doubt him. I'd be willing to be put under the Questioning to prove what I'm saying is true. So, brother dearest, would you care to either leave me alone or take me to the Council?"

Barney's face had twisted into an angry scowl. Clint was getting better at politics the longer he was away from the city and it wasn't fair. "Come with me." He turned sharply and headed back to the Mages Academy. The Council was having a meeting there to discuss how well the speech went.

Clint followed. He technically was still a student of the Mages Academy, he hadn't done anything to be removed from it, so he did still have complete run of the school, but without his brother accompanying him he was likely to get a beating on par with the one he received the last time he was here. If Barney were coerced into being on his side then he would at least have a modicum of safety. It would also piss Barney off, and that was never a downside in Clint's mind. He waited patiently outside the door to the Council chambers until he was summoned inside.

"Honored Mages, thank you for granting me audience and hearing what I have to say," Clint said. It was more formal than he had to be, but he was certain Barney hadn't been formal at all in addressing the council. The scowl on his brother's face confirmed it for him. He was making his brother look bad. Good. The asshole deserved it.

"Your brother says you have quite an interesting tale to tell," said the Head Mage, a venerable man who seemed like he was about to drop over dead from old age. Then again, he had been that way since Clint's father was a young boy. "We wish to hear it."

He took a deep breath. Best to start at the beginning. "I left the city over a year ago and have been living in the wildlands, creating potions and selling them at market," he began. "I have made the acquaintance of a magician from Errip, he helped me survive longer than I could have on my own. At his home blood was falling from the sky during the storm. Not merely rain with wild magic, but actual blood. He performed a few simple tests and determined it was likely the blood of a god." He waited for the gasps of shock and surprise to die down. "Since retribution has not happened immediately we have reason to believe that the god was summoned. It was likely against his will and he struggled, causing blood to fall, but he may now be bound to whoever has captured him."

"What brings you to this conclusion?" another Mage asked him.

"It was the magician's idea first," Clint said. "The only thing that could cause a god to bleed without enacting swift retribution from that god would be to bind it immediately upon summoning so that it couldn't contact home or exercise his wrath."

"Thank you, young Apprentice Barton. You may leave now. Please remain within the city for several days so we may find you if necessary."

Clint nodded and bowed. He left the room and got away from the Mages Academy as quickly as possible. There was an inn and a hot meal calling him and he didn't want to stick around on the off chance his brother's cronies were around. The questioning was quick but that was nothing new. Now he just had to wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finds himself back in the company of a God. Tony is less than pleased this time.

Bruce headed back down south with more of the blood he'd managed to collect. He intended to give it all to the god. Perhaps with more of his blood he'd regain his strength sooner and be more able to assist them in freeing him. Maybe not, maybe the control that Tony managed to have over him was too complete, but it was worth trying.

He got to the clearing where he had seen them before. It was definitely the right place, the ground was tramped down, but nobody was there. The wildlands were huge and he had no way of knowing which way they had gone. Even if he could track, he had seen Tony leaving the area and presumably he'd come back. He had no way of knowing how many times that had happened. There was stale magic here as well. It wasn't the standard magic of the wildlands, the living things here tended towards the more wild end of magic, as did most magic in the natural world. This wasn't where Tony had performed the summoning ritual but he had done something important here. Bruce sighed. It made the most sense to cast a spell to discourage anyone from following. It would be nearly impossible to track him even following the magic.

All he had left to do was return home and continue working on the god's identity. He still didn't have much to go on, the name inscribed on the stone was of no help to him. He took it from his pocket and looked at it one more time, sighing. "Give me something to work with here," he said. The wind blew through his hair and he was immediately on edge. It wasn't a natural wind, it was stronger. Strong winds usually meant magic storms, the kind that had caused him to become wild himself. He didn't want to know if he could survive another one.

The wind calmed as soon as it started but on it Bruce could smell something new, something different. This wasn't the smell of a storm. This wasn't the smell of anything he had ever encountered before. It was fresh and clean and wholesome. The smell alone refreshed him. He looked down at the stone in his hand. "Help me find you," he said. The wind picked up again, stronger than before. There was no danger in it this time, he followed carefully along the path before him. It was clear that the breeze was guiding him carefully, he could have closed his eyes and followed along with no problem at all. The wildlands wanted him to find the god. The magic wastes wanted it as well.

Before he could stop it himself he had put the blood and stone back into his pockets. He hunched over, his arms now brushing the grass. The beast inside was being let out to run. Bruce could feel his own mind slipping down, in this state his thoughts were much more primitive and uncontrolled. There was a physical component to the change as well, though he'd never been able to see it clearly. Perhaps at some point Natasha had seen it but she had never commented on it.

The beast was in tune with these lands, he was of this place and called it home. The wind was taking him to a place the Smallman inside of him desired to go. Smallman wasn't sure this place was safe, he would make sure it was safe for Smallman. He would make it safe. He had no teeth, no claws to rip threats into pieces, but he had his speed and strength. He could rip threats apart and make it safe for Smallman.

The wind led him in a circuitous route. It wound through the woods, up and down along a stream bed, through fields and meadows. It was searching just as Smallman was searching, but the wind was faster. It danced with him as it swept around him. It sang of other places, of freedom and family and wide open spaces to run free.

They ran, the wind and the beast, for hours. At times there were strange smells in the air. The beast would hesitate then, falling instantly to stillness, but there was no threat to him or Smallman. It was safe to continue running. He ran longer than the sun, he ran until the moon and stars were in the sky, he danced along with them and the wind. When he was hungry he ate, he knew all of the good plants. When he was thirsty the wind led him back to the stream. It circled down closer and closer to something, still searching and guiding him.

Smallman came back when the wind died. The beast was tucked away safely inside again, ready to come out at a moment's notice.

Bruce looked around. He had a good idea of where he was, but the short distance hardly explained why it was night out. He pulled the stone from his pocket one more time. "You're blocked by the Mage's magic too, aren't you?" The wind came back blowing right in his face. "It's okay. He's strong."

The breeze picked up one last time. Bruce advanced carefully. At times the wind would change direction or die completely, he followed exactly as it led him. Sometimes even the wind wasn't good enough to evade detection.

"One more step and I'm going to have to kill you, I'm afraid," came a voice from Bruce's right.

"Kill an innocent man and I will refuse to answer any question put to me," the god said from nearby.

Bruce took a calming breath. He didn't want to release the beast, not here. It wouldn't end well for anybody. "What makes you think you can kill me, Mage?" he asked. "I'm clearly strong enough to find you despite all of your countermeasures."

Tony stepped forward to where Bruce could see him. In his hand was a plain knife, likely balanced well for throwing. "How did you manage that, by the way?" he asked. The knife was at his side, it was no longer held up as if to throw it.

"Easy. I have the blood of a god." He didn't mention that it was in a vial in his pocket. If the Mage believed that he was a god, well, who was he to correct the idiot?

"So you put some sort of tracing spell on his blood, then?" Tony asked. He held out his hand. "Give me the blood."

The god appeared from the gloom. "By what right do you claim what is mine?"

Tony shrugged. He couldn't see the face of the man who managed to find them but he was going to find out what sort of spell he'd put on the blood to find them. "Well, you are bound entirely to me. You belong to me."

That was more than enough for Bruce. He punched Tony in the temple. There was enough magic in the punch to do exactly what Bruce wanted. He hadn't harmed the man, he'd just knocked him out. "Gods don't belong to people any more than people belong to other people," he said.

"Thank you, friend," the god said.

Bruce pulled the vial from his pocket. "It's all I could gather. There may be a few drops circulating, but they're with people I trust completely. Everything else was absorbed by the wildlands."

"Bruce, I am in your debt. If I ever escape I will not forget your kindness." He took the vial and poured it over himself. The blood was absorbed instantly through his skin. It was as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders, he could stand straighter now than before.

"One last thing," Bruce said. He pulled the stone from his pocket. "What does this say? I can't make any sense of it."

"It is my name." He had thought it obvious, how else was one supposed to label a locator stone? "Thor."

"Thor," Bruce said. "Thank you."

"Go," said the god, waving the man away. "He will wake soon. I doubt he has seen your face well. Escape while you are able."

Bruce nodded. He headed back the way he had came and as soon as he was far enough from the clearing he let the beast out to run again. It would confuse Tony if he tried to track him, nobody had been able to track the beast using magic or standard tracking abilities. He was too good for that.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha brings members of her coven back home.

Natasha was heading south again. The trip was much slower this time, she had Timothy and Gabe in tow. The two were never too far separated from each other and when Timothy had volunteered to come along, Gabe had grimaced and agreed to as well. It was for the better, she scouted ahead while they dealt with the formalities of passing by Dorothy's house. Natasha wasn't particularly keen on visiting with her again, especially so soon after the last visit.

It was late in the afternoon but she found a small clearing to shelter in for the night. It was defensible if a magic storm came up. There was plenty of fallen dead wood for a fire and a stream nearby for water. Edwin and Mags had made sure they had food to spare for the three of them, it wasn't a certainty that they would even make it as far as Natasha's house. She was hoping to make it there before they ran into this Tony and his new pet but it would all depend on where they were.

"So who exactly are we meeting up with?" Timothy asked.

Natasha had been very cautious not to mention Bruce's name. "He's a magician who lives near me. And hopefully we'll meet up with my apprentice as well." She didn't want to leave Clint wandering around. If she wasn't there and Bruce wasn't there she wasn't sure what he'd do. Hopefully he'd be smart enough to park himself at the house and maintain it. Then again, hope was in short supply these days. "The magician is very private, I'm certain he won't want me telling you much about him. He much prefers to introduce himself."

"And this apprentice of yours?" Gabe asked. He hadn't heard the story yet. Witches as young as Natasha rarely took on apprentices. "I assume there is a story behind that?"

"Of course," she said as she smiled at him. "The short story is that he saved my life. In doing so he ensured that he couldn't remain where he was without putting his in danger. I took him on." The Mages Academy training had given him a good foundation of magic that she was able to build on, if he kept up his studies under her he would be able to go off on his own within a few years. "He's a good person. Give him a chance."

Timothy smiled back. There it was, there was something she wasn't saying about him. Why else would she ask them to give him a chance? "Well, we've got hours before dark. We're not going anywhere any time soon. Why not tell us the whole story? We've got time. I'd like to hear it. Gabe?"

"I love stories," Gabe said.

She had known she'd be telling them the story of at least one of the two men tonight. It was much easier to steer them towards Clint than Bruce. Besides, Clint was almost fearful in his role of apprentice, always nervous he would do the wrong thing and offend her. She had told him time and again that as long as he put forth a good effort and nobody was hurt in any accidents that she wouldn't be mad with whatever he did. Custom in the wildlands was quite different than custom in cities. He didn't have to follow the narrow views any longer, but it was difficult to train that out of him. "I'm sure you've both heard of Toso?"

They nodded. It was widely regarded as one of the last outposts of the Kingdom, wild and far from any sort of central rule.

"Well, they started some strange customs there. Like letting Mages hold places on the City Council and effect changes in the law."

She told the story faithfully, including whatever bits she had learned from Clint since he had come to her. Even the parts he hadn't spoken, if she knew it she passed it along. It would do them well in dealing with him, knowing everything they could.

It was full dark by the time she finished. The winds were starting to pick up through the woods. The branches that they had woven together kept the worst of it out. It was a temporary shelter, the branches weren't harmed and the trees weren't inconvenienced for more than a night. In the morning they would undo the spells that had formed the walls and ceiling and be on their way, thanking the trees for their hospitality. For now, though, they slept. It was still a long walk to Natasha's home, perhaps they would make it tomorrow at their pace.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve arrives in Toso.

The first thing Steve did when he got to Toso was to present himself and his squire in front of the City Council. The Kingsmen did the same, having been assured of their orders to find the center of the storm and perform any clean up duties. He was assured that Toso would comply fully and assist him with whatever he needed. He returned with James to an inn near the outskirts of town. It had been late afternoon when they arrived. The Kingsmen would have to prepare a trip to the wildlands, such preparations took time. He was told he would be summoned by them when it was time to leave, but it may be two days yet.

"Did you see that?" James asked when they were safely in their room. "Mages, on the city council!"

Steve hushed him. If the mages were on the council there was no telling how far their reach went. Stark Hills was near here, Tony would have come to this city to join the Mages Guild. Steve had kept his reason for coming to the city a secret and had urged the Kingsmen to do the same. Ostensibly he was here to survey the damage of the latest storm and see if he could pinpoint the exact location it had been centered on. He was also here on the King's orders reacting to rumors of some powerful creature in the wildlands that had been summoned by someone. No details were given. If the Mages on the local Council had known anything about any summoned creature they hadn't given any indication of it.

James huffed at being silenced. He had yet to learn the fine art of observing without being observable.

Neither of them trusted the Mages. Not that they trusted any other magic users any more. The King's knights were usually of stock that wasn't able to wield magic, it kept them safe from the machinations of the various magical guilds. Not that the guilds didn't try occasionally but they had given up on the knights for the most part.

"We're in a smaller town, James. The Mages Academy is one of the largest enterprises in the city." It was mainly responsible for the city thriving, everyone for miles around sent their children to Toso to study to become a Mage. "Come on, let's check on the horses." They had been stabled at a local inn, one that was also supposed to play host to the knight but in reality had no room. The fact that the Mages had been having announcement after announcement had brought in people from far around to see what the news was. They'd been lucky to find a cheap room to spare nearby but the main inn near the market was the only one that had stables attached. Steve had spoken with the innkeeper and had arranged to leave the horses there long term, until he or a King's messenger sent for them or he or his squire returned to collect them. There was quite a hefty upfront payment and would possibly be more due when he returned but it was a necessary cost.

They headed back behind the inn and entered the stables. A low whinny greeted them. "Hey there, Ginger," he said, patting her nose. "They being good to you here?"

"Oh, is this one yours?" came a voice from behind him. Steve turned to see a young man with short blond hair. "She's beautiful."

"Thanks," Steve said. This one hadn't been here before, the innkeeper had told him that the groom couldn't speak. Maybe a stablehand. "Her and the three that came with her. They'll be boarding here long term but they shouldn't cause you any trouble." The worst trouble Ginger caused was stealing all the apples Steve brought her.

The youth smiled. "Oh I'm only here for a day or so myself. I help out whenever I'm in town, helps pay room and board. They're beautiful animals though."

Ginger arched her neck and shook her head, she always seemed to be able to tell when people were talking about her and preened for it. "They sure are. Too smart for their own good sometimes, eh girl?"

"I'm Clint, by the way." He held out his hand and was pleased with the strong handshake. "You must be the knight come to town, right?" Steve's reaction was immediate and amusing. He stepped back physically a half step in surprise. "I saw the big procession pass. I know all the Kingsmen around here. And trust me, when a King's knight comes to town, the news makes the rounds whether it's a secret or no. But don't worry, I don't really have anyone around here who'd care if I told them." Sara only cared about the lost income for not putting up a knight but most of her rooms were already overbooked anyway. Besides she already got the horses, what more could a mere innkeeper want?

"Clint, good to meet you," Steve said. "I'm Steve. This is James." He carefully avoided titles. His reaction was sure to confirm in Clint's mind who he was but there was no reason to say it aloud. "If you don't mind my asking, what brings you to town?"

Clint scratched the back of his neck. How much did he want to say? How much was he even allowed to say? "I don't live far and come visit pretty often. Plus I wanted to see what the big gathering was about, all the speeches that the Mages were giving."

"Oh? I wasn't here soon enough to hear it. What were they talking about?" Steve hadn't heard anything about speeches given by the Mages. They were emboldened indeed if they practiced politics so openly here. Then again, Toso was far enough from the direct influence of the King that it had its own customs. The rest of the country considered it half Southlander to begin with, and most of them wouldn't mind if the Southlanders started another war. They'd just surrender Toso and be done with it all.

"Mostly getting the townspeople to thank them for all the hard work they did to protect it from the latest storm." There was just enough scorn in his voice to convey what he wanted to without being overtly disrespectful.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Was it a bad storm?"

"Out in the wildlands, sure. I wasn't here for it, I don't know how bad it was, but we survived just fine. Didn't need an entire Academy's worth of Mages to protect us." Direct question, direct answer. Perhaps a bit more information than strictly necessary but he still couldn't be turned in for insubordination. He hadn't outright said anything negative about the guild. Yet. "There are a few of us that live out there on our own. We prefer it. Much quieter, less bustle. More time to devote to the theory and practice of magic." Technically he couldn't admit to practicing magic, not until he was awarded the title of Witch himself. He was still a student of the Mages Academy and didn't really want to be kicked out. Living with a witch, okay. Potions, okay. Theory of Magic, fine. Actual practice? That was outside the rules of what was allowed as far as independent study went.

James and Steve were nodding. "Makes sense," Steve said. "Some people need solitude to learn." He was like that. Others could learn shoved into a tiny classroom with books and instructors. Steve learned best by going out and practicing on his own before returning. "So long as nobody's hurt from it, I see no problem." The wildlands had a law unto themselves. Technically they were part of the King's land but nothing was enforced. There were no cities, no outposts running through that thin strip of forest between the Magic Wastes and the rest of civilization. If people could and wanted to survive there, they had his blessing. "Well, it was good to meet you, Clint. Safe travels on your return home."

"Safe travels to you as well. Welcome to Toso."

Steve and James headed out the door and up the street to their inn. "Strange man," James said. "He's hiding something."

"We're all hiding something. He's cautious. Not a bad trait to have, especially living in the wildlands." Steve looked at the sky. "Is it just me or do those clouds look like they're about to open up and rain on us?"

James looked up. "Could be rain, could just be clouds. Hard to tell out here, I don't know what indicators to look for. All my sisters say they could feel it if a magic storm was coming. I think it disappointed my ma when I couldn't tell." He looked over at Steve and grinned. "Then again, when I made the friendship of one of the kids destined to be a knight, I was a bit redeemed in her eyes."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony figuratively bangs his head against a tree. He only wishes it was literal.

Tony was beyond frustrated. On the one hand he could understand the god's anger at being torn from his home. On the other hand he seemed to be deliberately slowing their progress. He didn't have the skill or strength to compel the god to tell him anything but it would have been nice if he could find a way to get some sort of information out of him regardless. He didn't even know his name and hadn't been able to figure it out by guessing. Hell, he hadn't been able to figure out anything about the god aside from the fact that he was really pissed about being here.

At this point he had several options. He could release the god. That was almost a guaranteed death sentence, not the greatest for proving he was actually right. He could abandon the god and go find the head of the Mages Council. Toso wouldn't do any good, those bastards had kicked him out first. Errip was several days trek from here but he could make it. He'd be able to find the god but he wasn't sure he'd be able to convince the Mages that he was telling the truth and lead them back. Even if he did, he had summoned and captured a god. That was probably against some sort of rule or other and he'd be punished before he got to prove that he was right. It also had the less desirable option of leaving the god wandering the wastelands by himself. Okay, so a no to that one. He could try again to convince the god to move faster, that it was just one honest answer he wanted out of him. He'd tried to explain several times that asking it now would make it nearly meaningless to go to the Council in Briyal. He was becoming less and less sure with each passing day that he was right anyway. Asking the question early was bad, if he didn't like the answer than he'd have to resort to number one and the Mages wouldn't even see what he had managed to do without them. Trying to explain it without asking the question was just going to end up with him in the same run around he'd had several times, it wouldn't work.

There were always the coward's routes. He could take the god and retreat to Stark Hills, his home. He could claim that the god was an indentured man he'd met on the road and order the god not to tell the truth. There would be time to tell the Mages. But he needed to know now, he needed to know if he was right, he needed to have the justification to the Mages themselves. He wanted to continue with his training and there was no way to be reinstated without proving once and for all that he was right. He couldn't stand the thought of waiting for that. And if he took that route he was guaranteeing a slow and painful death for himself the moment he released the god. Bad idea, he'd never actually learn anything.

Suicide. That wasn't looking so bad right now. Or just disappearing. Leaving the god to fend for himself, going to Stark Hills to outfit himself and then going south and starting new. Surely the magic users of the southern lands hadn't heard of him. Or if they had it was only his name. He could pick another name easily. The god would eventually find him but he would have learned so much more already. And that was the whole point of this, wasn't it? Being able to learn more.

"What is the basis of magic? Where does the power come from?"

The god looked at him impassively. "Where does the air come from? What is the basis of water? You may as well look for these answers." He had taken to giving answers, it was easier than not at this point. Not giving answers would mean more pestering questions. Answers that provoked more thought or that were mostly nonsense at least gave him a few more minutes of peace before the next barrage. 

"Look, I'm trying to educate myself here. If you don't want to help then that's fine, I guess, but there's no need to mock me." Tony kept hiking through the forest. By his calculations they weren't even past the young witch's house. They should have been long past the witch enclave and on the road to Briyal by now. 

He was playing around with scenarios in his mind. Maybe if he just went to Errip instead the Mages Council there could reinstate him. It would be much closer than trying to make it all the way to Briyal. Yes, he would love to see the look on the faces of those assholes when he arrived and announced what he had done even if he didn't get the answer he wanted. But no, again, bad idea for several reasons, not the lest of which was that it was just a bad idea.

"For what reason did you summon me? Why do you keep me ignorant of your plans?"

Tony sighed. He'd been over this several times. "I need to ask you a question in front of some people. We have to get to them first. If I ask you now it'll give you too much time to think about it, think about why I could possibly want to know, which will give you insight into what answer I want. I've already told you, once you answer the question in front of the witnesses I'll let you go, you'll be free to do whatever. Why do you keep asking?"

"I'm merely trying to educate myself."

Right. That was enough. Tony was done asking questions. Here was this being, this creature, who knew the answers to all of the questions that plagued humanity in this realm, everyone who wanted to be able to comprehend and work with the underlying fundamental structure that had to be present within magic itself. Instead of helping, though, he was being an asshole and keeping all of this knowledge locked away in his own mind. There was no getting him to understand that Tony didn't really give a damn about overturning the structure of the magic wastes, all he wanted was a greater understanding and ability to manipulate the magic once it bled into this world. How could that be such a bad thing?

"I do not understand your rush. If we are waiting to see your superiors in a large city, why does it matter when we arrive? Will they not be there waiting for you?"

He stopped and turned slowly. How had this god figured him out so easily? Was he really so transparent? "No more questions. We need to hurry. Your arrival caused a big storm. There will be people looking for the cause."

"Ah, yes, searching for the cause of magic, your other pursuit. How noble that you wish to remove me from their search area. It simply wouldn't do for them to find a god, now would it?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha return home, Nat brings with her some of the witches from her order.

Clint arrived back at the house late the next afternoon. Natasha hadn't been back yet, she would have left a note for him. He had been told to wait a few days and there was still more than enough to be done around here. The garden was a bit out of hand after the magic storm, there were incantations to do to safely leech most of the wild magic out of the plants so they would remain safe. There was always cleaning, making vegetable stock, and the requisite reading and practicing of basic incantations to do. Moving in with Natasha had pretty much assured he'd never be bored again.

As he tended the garden he wondered what she had done without him for so long. Certainly there had been less work to do with only one person to feed, but the difference wasn't so great that it doubled the workload. Maybe she'd just had less time for her own studies. Or traveling. And of course, taking on teaching duties was a big drain on her time.

Someone was coming, something had tripped the outer wards he'd reset when he arrived. He ran from the garden back to the house. He didn't have quite the control to tell who it was, but it was more than one person and that had the potential to get very dangerous very quickly. He prepared himself to defend against whoever was coming. Perhaps it was the mages, having followed him back. Maybe kingsmen checking up on them. No way to know. He made sure there was a large walking stick place within easy reach of the door and waited.

The door opened slowly, just a crack, then stopped. He reached out to grab the stick but his hand stopped midair. "While I appreciate your forethought, there's no need to actually brain me," Natasha said, pushing the door open all the way. She waved her hand through the air and his own hand was released from the magical grip it had been in.

"How was I supposed to know who was coming?"

"We have a window." She set her bag down on the table. "Gabe, Timothy, this is my apprentice, Clint. Clint, Gabe and Timothy, two of the witches from up North. They've come back with me to help with the issue and report back." They had been instructed by no less than Mags and Edwin to do exactly as Natasha said. She had a better handle on the situation than any of the rest of them did, but it was still strange giving orders to people who were easily thrice her age. "We've been walking all day. I'm going to get dinner started, after we eat we'll all sit down and talk."

There was plenty to say, of that Natasha was certain. Clint was nearly buzzing with energy. Even when his body was still, small moments of pause, his mind wouldn't rest. She could see. It was no more than looking across their home one too many times, an anxious shake of the head to settle his hair back into place, but it was evident to anyone who knew him. He did better with direction, with a job to do his mind was better distracted. She needed him distracted now, she needed him to stop worrying about whatever it was that he had learned. She had learned plenty on her own, and no doubt Bruce had been able to learn something. She'd have to go see him tomorrow, Clint could stay behind with Gabe and Timothy. There was no way she would take them along without warning Bruce well ahead of time.

Dinner was simple fare, they had no meat and hadn't had a chance to hunt on the trip. Once they had all finished eating, Natasha brewed up a strong tea. It was particularly suited to late nights and long discussions, it would drive sleep away for hours yet. She offered it first to Timothy, then to Gabe. Even in this situation there was room for propriety and manners, the eldest in the room receiving the first cup. It was close, they were only a few weeks apart, but she took pride in remembering small details.

"Clint, how did your visit to Toso go?" Natasha asked.

He sat down. A full report at this point would take a long time, but it was better to give a thorough telling than have her asking later. She'd stop him if it got to be too much. He first told of the speech the Mage had given to the crowd, assuring them that they were taking the situation seriously and keeping the villagers safe from anything that might befall them if only they placed their trust in the Mages. By the looks on Gabe and Timothy's faces, they didn't believe a word of what the Mages had said. Clint wasn't so sure he believed it all either. The epicenter of the storm had been nowhere near Toso, but he hadn't been brave enough to mention that, especially not before the crowd. He spoke of the brief audience he had with the Mages Council and what he had told them. They hadn't seemed particularly inclined to listen and though he'd stayed on in the city for longer than he had planned, he had yet to be summoned back. They had ways of summoning him even if he had left the city and hadn't done so either, so it was a safe bet that they would leave him alone.

"Was there anything else?" Natasha asked, frowning slightly. She had a feeling there was something more, something that while Clint might not notice the significance, would come to be important. It was a feeling she had learned not to ignore, it had saved her life repeatedly in the wildlands.

Clint paused before he answered. "In the stables there were a couple of fine horses. Really nice, looked like it could have been pure stock from Calenda. Had the King's own mark on them." Calenda had for centuries been one of the finest breeders of horses in the known world. "Two more horses with them, too. Not quite so nice, but still King's stock. Met the men who likely owned the Calenda horses. Probably a knight and his squire, asked about the storm. I didn't mention much, only that I lived in the wildlands and hadn't experienced the storm from the city."

Natasha closed her eyes. That felt right. Much better. The world had settled into place again. "When did they arrive in Toso?"

"Late yesterday afternoon." He'd spent most of the day wandering about and picking up any bits of gossip he could, but the horses definitely hadn't been there when he'd left in the morning.

"Good. We'll see them within a few days." She looked over at her guests. The invitation for them to speak was clear, but both of them busied themselves drinking the last of their tea. Natasha gestured and Clint jumped up to refill the mugs all around. The council she had been on had been too long and complicated to recount the whole tale now without reliving the whole thing and going into explanation on several things. Clint was still owed a basic explanation of what they had decided.

"Thank you," she said as he sat back down. Even if he was an apprentice and eager to be treated as such, he was a person and deserved respect. "The Mage you mentioned, the one who went off on his own, do you happen to remember his name?"

Clint cast back, trying to recall old conversations. He knew who Natasha meant and could easily picture the man, but the name was hanging just outside of his memory.

"Was he Tony of the Stark Hills?"

A stillness fell over the table. Clint tried that name on the face in his mind and it somehow fit. "I'm not fully certain, but I believe it might have been."

Natasha glanced over at Gabe. His expression was unreadable. "One of our order and his late wife all but raised the boy. Edwin is fairly confident that Tony is the one who summoned the god. We are to capture both of them alive and return them north to Edwin, if at all possible." The tone of her voice made it clear that she thought such a thing was not at all possible. "We are to avoid killing anyone unless it is a last resort."

Timothy pulled out a small device from his pocket. It looked much like a compass, but compasses were useless in this part of the world. Magic messed with the directions. This, however, was not a standard compass. It was a device that the previous Lord of Stark Hills had made in order to keep tabs on his son. It was attuned to Tony and would for the most part point in his direction. Recently the pointer had taken to spinning lazy circles. "This is how we are supposed to find him, but he has done something to himself to avoid magical detection."

Clint stared at the object. "May I?" he asked and smiled when Timothy handed it to him. It looked fairly simple, a small bowl with a pointer suspended in what looked to be water. There were no markings on it but the amount of magic contained in this one item was staggering. "This is delicate spell work, I don't even know if any of the Mages in Toso could manage it." He turned it side to side and flipped it upside down, but the liquid remained completely in place. He dipped a finger in and it came out wet, so there was still a way to reach it, it wasn't held back by mechanical means. That was likely a great deal of the work.

He laid a finger on the pointer in the center and closed his eyes. One tip of the pointer was darker, presumably to lead the way. He gently stroked the pointer until his finger was over the dark part and immediately pulled it back. His eyes shot open. That was blood. Definitely blood. The pointer had a great deal of magic on it, but now he understood. The greater part of the spells were to contain the water and to hide the fact that the Lord of the Stark Hills had used his son's blood in a component of a device. It was ingenious, the blood would always want to point back to its body, but it could be dangerous if it was used improperly.

"Natasha, I still have some…do you want me to…I could…" he trailed off, unsure of how much to say. He didn't know if the other witches knew of the blood he carried, the blood that had come from the god. Witches were extremely uncomfortable with blood magic, more than any other user of magic, but this was a special case. If ever there was a time to use blood magic it would be to find this god. That would be the easiest way to find Tony of the Stark Hills and be able to bring him to Edwin. Or wherever.

She shook her head, expression carefully guarded. "Not now. Can you?"

He looked back down at the device in his hands. Once he ignored the water spells, it did seem fairly simple. And if all it took was to remove this needle and put on another one spelled to the god, he would only really have to recreate a location spell. That was simple enough, in theory. "Probably. I'd have to practice on myself first." It was the only way he could think of without asking to use someone else's blood that he could test his work. He'd still need some help testing it, he'd have to go out into the woods and have someone try to find him.

Natasha shook her head. "No. If you think you've got an idea, take it to Bruce. He can probably help you. Go tomorrow. If he's not there I'll give you a token to leave for him." It was better to keep blood magic away from the older witches. Bad enough that it had to be done, there was no need to do it right in front of them. She wasn't sure how complicated it was, but it was also better to have Clint under supervision from someone who had the faintest clue what was going on.

"I've tended the garden already today, I can start preparing food for tomorrow." Inactivity was Clint's biggest problem. He hated being still when there was so much that needed to be done. Inactivity had its place and purpose, he was learning to embrace it when the time came, but there was still much to be done to find Tony and his god before anything worse happened. The mages weren't going to take him seriously any time soon. There was still the issue of the knight in Toso and what he was doing there. Knights didn't arrive for nothing, Kingsmen were the ones who investigated the storms and their damage. Knights were reserved for serious issues such as kidnapped gods. But how had the King known? That was the big question on his mind as he began pulling things out to make a meal for four of them. Five. Bruce might come by, he never knew at this point. And having extra wasn't too bad of an idea either.

Clint was certain of few things in the world. One was that Knights hadn't been sighted south of Errip in nearly a century. The last time a Knight came was when they had fought the legions from Fenta, the country far to the south of them. The Fentanese had been so thoroughly defeated that they retreated and left a wide swath of land uninhabited, or so the stories went. The Knights rode back to Briyal as heroes and never really set forth again. So what brought this lone Knight to Toso?

"What are you thinking?" Natasha called out to him.

"The Knight," he began. "Why is it here? The King sent him, and his squire. They arrived with Kingsmen, but on horses. My friend at the gate, Samuel, said he'd never seen a Kingsman so uncomfortable before as on a horse. So they got here fast, for a Knight." Kingsmen ran their messages wherever they needed to go. While most people took four or five days to get to Briyal, Kingsmen could do it in a day or two. Nobody was sure exactly how except the Kingsmen, but nobody asked. There was likely very old magic involved. "The only reason a Knight would be here is if the King sent him. But he's never sent a knight over a storm before. No reason to now, so it wasn't the storm. Witches had no way of knowing what had happened to cause the storm, they wouldn't have told him anything. Which leaves magicians and mages." He paused. "Of the two, mages are more likely. Magicians wouldn't be following Tony of the Stark Hills too closely, it doesn't concern them. But the Mages Council in Toso didn't seem to even believe me that he had a god." Then again, they were idiots of the highest order. They even had the papers to prove it. "So either they didn't know what exactly he had done or they were hiding things from me. In which case I have a claim against them, it gets very political, my brother would look like an idiot, so I don't think that's the case." He looked up to see the witches staring at him. "Politics in the Mages Guild aside, the other option is they know who did it but not what he did or who he took. Meaning we still have an edge. And possibly a device that works with the blood of a person to track them. So even if Tony is hiding himself from magical detection, the blood of a god will be that much stronger and may still work."

Natasha smiled. "Good assessment. We'll worry about the device tomorrow. For now we need to see if we can figure out which god we're working with and think of ideas to send him home." Timothy was among the wisest of the lore masters. They didn't have much to go by as far as a way to identify the god. Most of what they did have was in the blood and the storm itself, they had nothing else to go on as of yet.

The afternoon was fairly quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Timothy started talking shortly after dinner. Most of what he said was repeated for Clint's benefit, it had all been discussed at the ad hoc council in Edwin's house. How each god that they knew of was likely just a facet of some primordial power. Names changed with who was worshiping at the time, but the being behind the name remained the same. That being said, he had identified no less than twenty distinct gods in his own travels as a youth, and those travels had never gone further than the ends of this country. Gave pitched in when necessary, he had been raised on his mother's tales of the gods of the Fentanese, though she had left Fenta years before the conflict came. He knew of several gods, most of whom Timothy ascribed to deities he had already identified.

Clint went to bed early. With two guests he was sleeping up in the rafters, but this time of year it was hardly uncomfortable. He could open a vent high in the wall to give him a gentle breeze all night, and sleeping in a hammock was much easier than his bed most nights anyway, it left less room for tossing and turning and he always awoke feeling rested. The trick was to stay in bed until he was fully awake and not try to stumble out the second his mind started running.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint visits Bruce alone and learns a bit about magic along the way.

It was useless, he decided. Even with a name, Bruce could find nothing. Thor must have been the god's name for himself. It was all well and good to know what a god called himself, it was usually best to use that name when addressing him directly. Unfortunately, most historians and chroniclers of mythology hadn't had the forethought to ask the gods how they would like to be addressed. He'd come across the histories for hundreds of individual gods. While there were similarities between several of them, he had no idea which he was looking for.

He sighed and looked up. The sun was starting to shine through the trees. Bruce groaned. He had been awake all night looking for the answers and had nothing to show for it but a headache. There was a tea he could brew for the headache, and no sense letting good hot water go to waste. The tea would be improved by a stronger variety of tea as well, something to wake him up a bit and get him going. And there was always oats sweetened with fruit and honey to abate his hunger. Besides, he still had five books to go through to find any mention of Thor. Only one of them was written in his native language, the others were all books he had bought from collectors, tomes from all over the continent. He had the skill to read them, but maybe he'd go take care of other things first. Like food. Food was a wonderful thing to take care of first. And tea. Tea that would wake him up.

He finished the first book in the late morning. He was preparing to put it away when someone crossed his outer layer of protection. His eyes rolled back in his head slightly as he cast his mind out, making sure it was someone he trusted and not just some stranger he'd have to send away. It was rare that they made it through his protective spells, but it did happen from time to time. But this time it was Clint, and he had come alone.

Bruce's mind raced with possibilities. He didn't seem too upset or distraught, perhaps he had just been sent here by Natasha on an errand. Just because she hadn't come along didn't mean that something had happened to her. He tidied up a bit, sorting his books and pocketing the token he'd left sitting on the table. It was definitely time for more tea, he was beginning to feel exhaustion tugging at his mind, especially after casting it out as he had.

He was pouring two mugs of tea when the knock came at the door. "Come in," he called. The door opened and he turned and smiled at Clint. "Tea? I've made enough for both of us."

Clint looked cautiously at Bruce and the tea. How had he known exactly when he'd be there? No matter, it smelled delicious. "Yes, sir. Please. Thank you." He stood just inside the doorway awkwardly, unsure where to go or what to do.

"Come in, Clint." Bruce handed him a mug. "I don't know what sort of agreement you and Natasha have between you, but I don't stand on formalities here. There's no need to treat me like a master, I had plenty of that before the wilderness." He lifted his own mug and took a drink. The warmth spread outwards and suffused his body, relaxing and refreshing. "Don't worry about what I'll tell her, I'll tell her you were a perfectly behaved gentleman the whole time you were here."

"Thank you, sir," Clint said, taking a sip of his tea. It was the right amount of sweetness to balance out the bitter of the invigorating tea blend. Formalities may be gone, but his parents had raised him with manners.

Bruce sat at the table and and motioned for Clint to do the same. He set his bag down at his side. "What brings you out here?" Bruce asked.

Clint pulled the device from his bag and set it on the table. The needle had stopped spinning but was still pointing in whatever direction it had been left. The needle was completely controlled by the water at this point, not by the blood that was supposed to bind it to its target. "Natasha came back last night with two other witches in tow. They brought this. It was made to track Tony of the Stark Hills. That's his blood on the end. It's stopped working, but I was thinking that with the last of the god's blood I might be able to recreate the spells." They had all been in agreement that it would be stronger because it was the blood of a god rather than a mortal.

"May I?" Bruce held out his hand and Clint handed him the device. "I can't imagine they wanted you working with blood magic there," he said idly. The device itself was genius, most of the blood magic hidden behind other spells, most of the blood disguised as rust or paint. Clint may have responded, Bruce wasn't sure. He closed his eyes and felt the thing, the delicate layers holding everything together. Whoever had fashioned this had been a master craftsman in the magical arts. The design and artistry of the box itself was brilliant as well.

He removed the needle from the liquid. The only spells on it were buoyancy and blood location. Those wouldn't do him any good. He set it aside and began turning the rest of the device around in his hands. There were ways to modify it, possibly, to make it work, but it might be difficult to blend his style of magic with what was already there. He became aware of Clint staring at him.

"You took it apart," Clint said.

Bruce winced a bit and put the needle back into the water where it had been. "Yeah, sorry. I was testing things. Trying to think about how it all works."

"No, it's not that," Clint said quickly. "It's just that I...couldn't. I tried last night." Long after he had climbed up to the rafters he'd kept playing with it, turning it every which way and trying to remove the needle without having the rest of the spells come apart.

He took the needle out again. Now that he had the layout of the spells in his mind it was easy. He looked back up at Clint who was still staring in amazement. "How do you see the spells?"

"See them?" Clint wasn't sure what he meant. Spell work wasn't visual, it was physical and mental. You had to imagine the results you wanted and bring together the physical components that would do the work, then find the right direction to give it. Yes he had to imagine exactly what he wanted of it, but it wasn't something that could be seen. "Magic is invisible."

This was going to be an interesting day. Maybe there was something to be said for the different approaches to magic, but Bruce had never been able to do anything without seeing it first. "Close your eyes," he said. Clint did so. "Now tell me, what color is my hair?"

"Brown?" Clint was certain he was right. He was less certain, however, what it had to do with anything.

"Okay, but you knew that without seeing it. You could see it in your mind's eye, correct?" Clint nodded. "Alright, open your eyes." Bruce went to a shelf and grabbed a small ball, he handed it to Clint. "What's inside here?"

Clint took the ball from Bruce and shook it gently. It was heaver than he had thought it would be, and something inside was rolling around loose. "Water?"

"Why?" Bruce asked.

"Why what?"

Bruce sat back down. "Why do you say water?" The boy looked almost comical in his confusion. "You gave it a quick shake. Is it liquid? Is it solid? How heavy is the ball compared to how large it is? Can you do any magic to what's inside? How does it react? What does it sound like?" He waited until Clint started quietly testing, somewhat chastised. He had been right, it was nothing more than water in the ball but it was important that he learn how he knew it.

"It's just water. No magic, but it has the potential to hold it." Clint was staring at the ball now, as though it was some sort of eternal puzzle.

"Good. What does it look like?"

Clint wasn't following this conversation at all. "It looks like water. Fills the space it's put into, unless there are other factors it generally doesn't have its own color, makes light seem brighter. Water."

Bruce took the ball back and put it carefully on the shelf. "The water in that ball hasn't been seen in your lifetime, or in mine. My grandfather gave it to my father, who gave it to me. I have no idea how long ago it was put in there." He sat back down and picked up the device Clint had brought. "You know what it looks like because you know what it's supposed to look like, not because you've seen it with your eyes." He turned the box upside down. "For example, there's the spell that seeks to bind the water to itself. That's a nice one, makes it much harder for someone to steal your supplies, but you have to be careful when it becomes your turn to take a drink." He turned it back and set the needle in place, then turned it upside down again. The needle didn't so much as shift. "That's the base layer. Then there's the layer that attaches the water to the box and presses it into place." He pointed at the corners of the box. "This thing is nicely made, but it's not watertight. See the cracks along here? Whoever made this did a great job. The box itself is old, though, and this wasn't its first job." He looked at it where the metal was slightly differently colored along one side. "Hinges used to go here. And the opposite side," he said, pointing out a slight discoloration, "That was likely a clasp of some sort."

"But that's just the box, not the magic."

"The box and the magic are so tied together at this point. The box should have fallen apart. There's layers of magic holding it together. The water holds itself together. The box holds itself together. The water holds itself to the box, but not the physical box. The magical box. The water is formed to where the box remembers it should be solid. Otherwise it would seep through." He pointed out one particular crack, holding the box up and showing Clint the light that shone through. "So that's three layers of very complex magic. Then there's the layer that held the needle in the precise location above the box. That spell worked its way through the water holding itself together, anchoring the center of the needle over the center of the water and the center of the bottom of the magical edges of the box."

Clint nodded. He was starting to understand what Bruce meant by see the magic. He'd admired all the delicate spells it must have taken to put this together but hadn't taken the time to probe them and figure out exactly what they were. "Then there's the magic on the needle, but that's a simple location spell tied to blood on half of the needle. And the bits of obfuscation to make the blood look like something else."

Bruce smiled. "You're getting it now. And the small bit of working with blood is overshadowed by the massive amounts of magic needed to convince the water and the box that they need to stay how they are no matter what. And the work to get the needle in there where it can still spin." He handed the device back to Clint. "Take the needle off."

Was he joking? Clint reached in to remove the needle, but it wouldn't budge, just spin in circles. "You put the magic back."

"Of course I did. Otherwise it would just sink to the bottom of the box, or fall out when I turned it on its end." He smiled at the boy. "Go on. You know what's holding it together. Unhook it, take the needle out."

Clint reached in with his fingers and his mind, finding the threads of magic that were holding the needle in place. They were all tangled in with the threads that held the water in the shape of the box and with the magic that kept the box in one piece. It was like trying to remove five threads from an entire tapestry without disturbing anything else. It could be done with the proper tools and practice, but he had neither of these. "What if I destroy the rest of it?"

Bruce shrugged and smiled kindly at him. "It depends. Will you have learned something from it?" He waited for an answer, but it didn't seem like one was going to be forthcoming. "Let me try something," he said, taking the box from Clint. He took the needle out and took the talisman from his pocket. It floated in the water and drifted off to one side of the box. He poked at it, moved it to the other side, but it still returned. "Interesting." He turned the box sideways. The water stayed in place, but the talisman fell out into his hand. There was certainly a way to get it to stay in place, but it would take a lot of work. There were other ways to get the talisman to lead them to Thor. He replaced the needle and handed the box back to Clint. "Take the needle off. If you pull the wrong magic and it all falls apart...well, it's not like it's actually doing its job very well right now, is it?"

Now it was a challenge. Bruce had shown apparent ease removing and replacing the needle. Clint had to. At this point it wasn't even a matter of being asked to do it, it was a personal challenge. He took the box and turned it upside down. He worked best under pressure and the higher stakes of all of the water falling out at once onto Bruce's table was enough to make him cautious. He touched the needle and felt the thrum of the blood, dried but still not quite dead. He pushed past that and began reaching into the water. There were a lot of threads here, old and new. Bruce had completely undone the magic and redone it himself, it seemed. It made it easier to find his threads, the magic was singing louder. He gently tugged each thread, pleased when none of them resulted in his hand even getting the slightest bit wet. It was easy to sever those magic threads, undo the spells that had been worked.

He smiled and removed the box, showing Bruce the needle that had fallen out of the water into his hand.

"Excellent work," Bruce said. The boy was a quick study, to be sure. "Now put it back."

Clint wasn't sure this what what Natasha had in mind when she sent him here, but any greater understanding of the box was going to have to come from somewhere. Once they knew how the blood detection spell worked they'd have to replace the needle, and if Bruce wasn't planning on coming along with them it made sense to have Clint know how to make this work. He had left the buoyancy on the needle and dropped it into the water, reaching with his mind to tie the center back down to the center of the box. He did it with different spells, different ways to hold things in place, but it worked. The needle spun on, tracing lazy circles in the water. He handed the box to Bruce to check his work.

"You have a great deal of talent," Bruce said as he inspected the box. "Given time you could probably recreate this entire box setup." He removed the needle once more. "But that's not what we need right now." He set the box and the talisman on the table. "I know you came here to ask about working blood magic, but we don't need it. I went out and ran into the god, he gave me this," he said, pointing at the talisman. "It floats in water and will always lead us to him. I just need to find a way to tie it in to this box to where it can still float along the surface of the water without falling out when the box is turned over."

Clint nodded. Bruce motioned to the items and he reached out. The talisman was strong, he could feel the energy in it. It had been given to Bruce by the god himself, though, of course it would be strong. He picked up the box again and dropped the talisman into it. It floated, just as Bruce had said, but it took up a good deal of space inside the box. There was a way to do what he wanted, to tie it down and anchor it so it went in the right direction to a certain extent, but there wasn't enough space here. Meaning he'd have to recreate the entire box spell, just as Bruce had said. Given time, but it was a precious commodity. "I need a bigger box, more water."

"How big?" Bruce didn't even think to question that Clint was asking for things. He knew the boy was smart enough to figure it out for himself. Clint held up his hands to demonstrate the size he needed and Bruce was off. He didn't have much by way of boxes in that size, but he did have small bowls that might work. He gathered a few of his more durable ones and brought them back to the table. "Will these work?"

Clint examined them with a careful eye. He took one and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "This will work." He stood and turned around, looking for a source of water to fill it. "Water?"

"There's a pump in the corner," Bruce said. It was attached to the cistern outside, Clint wouldn't likely empty the thing, the bowl wasn't nearly big enough for that.

"Thank you." He went back to his work, assembling from scratch what he'd only seen in finished form before.

Bruce went back to his studying. The more he could find out about this god before he went back to Natasha's, the better it would be. They'd have a nice long discussion, him and Clint and the three witches. He planned to leave and head back with him once Clint had finished assembling the new god finder. If the boy had any questions he could ask and Bruce would do his best to answer, but most times it was best to let him work in silence and learn on his own.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and James make their way to Natasha's place.

Steve and James had met up with Lanna, the only female Kingsmen in the entire service. She was familiar with the wildlands around here and was willing to take them out to Natasha's house. She had friendly enough relations with the witch and wasn't likely to be injured on sight. There were few Kingsmen who could say the same.

"What's she like?" Steve asked. They were walking, there was little to no protection in the wildlands for horses and Lanna wasn't even certain that Natasha had a safe place for them to be hitched or anything to eat while they were there.

"Natasha? Well, if you ask the local mages she's evil incarnate. Half of the ridiculous rules about magic use and the trade of magic devices were designed to trap her so they could get rid of her." Lanna had her own feelings on the matter. Natasha's potions had saved her eyesight when she was a child, and had brought her father out of a serious illness. "Toso's far enough out from the influence of the King that the mages have a stranglehold on magic use here. If it doesn't come from them, they don't like it, they want to see it gone."

Steve had gathered as much from meetings with various officials the night before. They each carefully boasted about the local Mages Guild, as though the phrases were proscribed. "So what's she actually like?"

Lanna was glad Steve could think for himself. "She's good. Kind. All she wants to do is make her potions and sell them, help make people's lives better. But she's cautious. Living out in the wildlands you have to be. She doesn't trust easily, especially since the mages kicked her out of the city. Exile, which is a pretty strong word for someone who never really lived there to begin with."

Interesting. The mages had presented a completely different picture of the woman, someone who was taking away jobs of honest citizens and directly causing harm to them in the long term. He had of course seen straight through what they were saying, but keeping James quiet on the issue was another matter entirely. For as long as he had been Steve's squire, he had a lot to learn about when not to speak and what not to say.

They made their way into the wildlands. Steve couldn't see a definite boundary but could tell when they were fully there. The trees themselves felt more alive and there were eyes watching them from all sides. He followed the lead of their guide and didn't react, going so far as to put a hand on James's wrist when he started acting skittish. "Peace, James," he said under his breath. "We're not being led into danger."

James managed not to actually speak his retort, but he wasn't sure at all. This whole area felt oppressive, it was harder to breathe. The air was definitely thick with something and he hated it.

"It's the wild magic," Lanna said. "If you could sense magic, you'd be able to tell. Kingsmen who can't sense magic don't come into the wildlands, they get skittish and usually run away screaming. It's also why we don't bring beasts out here. They have an even harder time, you can't reason with a beast as you can with a man." She paused and looked around, up at the sky. "We're nearly there. Wait here, it's best if I go ahead. She knows me."

"How far?"

Lanna took a deep breath, smelling the wind. "Just far enough to breach her wards. Just to get her attention. Then I'll come back and get you, she'll be watching for another disturbance and know you're coming." She turned to look at Steve. "Don't leave this place. The wildlands have their name for a reason, they are wild, untamed. Not safe for wandering around in alone. I will return for you within ten minutes. You'll be safe here until then." And with that she was off, slipping into the woods.

James took the opportunity to sit. There were exercises he could do to calm his mind, clear the worst of the growing panic out of it. The entire place felt wrong, he couldn’t imagine staying here for any amount of time, or living here. He could only hope that they would go see this witch and be back to the village today. The magic, if that’s what it was, felt like it was boxing him in and pressing down on him.

Steve sat behind him and they leaned back against each other with practiced ease. He knew it would help calm James, he couldn't even imagine the difficulty he was going through out here. He had his own difficulty using magic but could sense it well enough. He had known others, though, who couldn't even feel its presence and even being near any of the magical academies was enough to make them ill. That magic was controlled very carefully. This was different, he could feel how wild it was. "I don't know if we'll go back to the city," he said. "It depends on what the witch has to say. But if you need to go back with Lanna, do so. There's no need for you to make yourself ill over this. And it never hurt to have someone watch over the horses. Someone who knows what they're doing."

James nodded. He appreciated the easy out but was determined to go as long as he could without leaving Steve. He was supposed to stay and learn from him, stick close. It was how things worked. Until, of course, they didn't work that way any more.

It didn't take long at all for Lanna to return. "I have her attention now, I hope. Let's go." They headed back into the woods.

Within five minutes there was a woman standing in their path. "Lanna, I should have figured it was you," she said. "Who are your friends?"

"A knight and his squire. They want to talk to Natasha." She hoped that neither of them would speak up too soon.

The woman raised her head and looked them over. "Just talk? No weapons?"

"Just talk," Lanna assured her. "They have weapons because I'm not going to lead people into the wildlands who can't defend themselves, but I'm sure once they get to her house they'll remove them like civilized gentlemen."

The woman looked back to Lanna. "You're here about the storm? Nothing to see, we're already looking into it."

"I have a duty," Lanna said. "If you'd rather give me assurances that all is well within the wildlands, I can continue escorting these men." She only actually investigated the causes of storms on infrequent occasions. More often she went directly to Bruce to check on him instead, though Natasha was well known to her as well. Few others volunteered to go to the wildlands, it fell on her more often than not, which was how everyone preferred it.

The woman looked Lanna directly in the eye and held her gaze for a long time. It was as though they were speaking and Steve felt decidedly uncomfortable. "Very well." She looked at Steve and James. "I am Natasha. Follow me, keep your peace, we will make full introductions when we get to my home. Lanna, I sent my ward after Bruce. Would you please go retrieve them? I have a feeling they'll both want to be part of the discussion as well."

"Of course." Lanna turned to the men. "Do as she says, and play nice. I'll see you soon enough." She peeled off from the group and began running through the woods with a speed that astounded the men.

"There are others at my home, witches like me. They shun the King's land and the King's laws. They won't be overtly disrespectful, I'll make sure of it, but don't provoke them. And don't allow yourselves to be provoked." Natasha turned her back to the men and headed back home. She was pleased with how well they took direction so far, doing exactly as told with no complaint. Perhaps they would be useful after all.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony presses ever onward, despite Thor's resistance.

Thor could no longer cause delay in their travel. Tony had panicked after being attacked by the stranger. He was even more on edge when he couldn't find a trace of the man, it was as though he had just disappeared into nothingness. Thor knew, however. He'd sensed the beast within, the wildling trapped within the man. Very few humans would be able to track such a creature with magical means, it would have to be done by hand, walking through the trees and looking for bent branches, footprints in the dirt. Tony had neither the time, training, nor inclination to do such tracking.

He had picked up the pace, forcing Thor along with him. It was a sort of compulsion. He balked as much as possible, digging in his heels and insisting on rest breaks, plenty of sleep in a night. He was in no hurry to get wherever Tony wanted to go. If Bruce was going to gather his friends and mount a rescue, he needed to stay as close as possible. There was no way to ply Tony's mind with magic and muddle it. There was no way for him to contact any of his family members back in his own realm to do so either. He could resort to physicality, but could not harm Tony. He could lift the man and keep him from walking occasionally, but he couldn't not tie him in place or otherwise restrain him.

It had become a delicate balance, a dance on the edge of a knife. On one hand there was Tony trying to drive them further and further North as fast as possible. On the other was the god, trying desperately to cause as much delay as possible. Even if there was no rescue forthcoming, Thor would still do his utmost to delay Tony. He had no desire to play nice with this creature who had all but killed him.

"We need to go," Tony said. "The sun is up, it's time." He was impatient, the sun was rising quickly and would soon be overhead. The later they got going the less time they would have on the road, and every minute was important. He wanted to maintain hope that they could make it to the witches enclave within the week. Usually he could travel it within two days, but with this god challenging him every step along the way it was all but impossible to maintain that speed.

"I grow tired of walking day in and day out," Thor said disdainfully. It was the truth, he was a prince and a god, hiking to travel long distances was never done. His body had no problems with the strain put on it, it was in excellent shape. His mind, however, was reeling at the tedium. It had been far too long already since he'd had an intelligent conversation.

Tony sighed. "Perhaps you'd like to use your godlike powers to get us to where we need to go?" He got a stony glare in return. "Well, then, there's nothing for it. Walking is the way to go."

Even if Thor weren't cut off from the bulk of his powers, sending him and another to a distant location was questionable at best. He didn't know the geography of this place. The spell could very well end up with them halfway across the planet itself, or somewhere within his own realm. He kept his peace, it was best not to mention to his captor that his powers were so reduced, that he was little more than a helpless child here. "Bring me a beast to ride. Surely you have those?"

Tony stood and started walking. Soon the compulsion would drive the god to him. It was difficult, each step further away was like fighting through waist deep mud while tied to an oxcart, but eventually the god stood. He could only do this for an hour a day before it wore him out, but it was an hour of steady progress. "I've said before," Tony said through clenched teeth. "No domesticated creatures in the wildlands. Too much magic for them. We've been over this."

"So we have," Thor said quietly. "So we have. And yet you continue to treat me more like property than another sentient being." He waited. The barb was designed to get under Tony's skin, to make him turn back and fight. It would take time, but he would. And it would waste more time. The one comment didn't seem to be enough today, though. Perhaps it would take a bit more prodding. Nonetheless, it was something simple to do, open some small wound in this man's ego and poke at it until he snapped. "In my realm," Thor began, "even though we recognize that humans are below us, we treat them with respect when they find their way in."

It happened so rarely that it was barely worth mentioning, but it had happened just often enough that there were official protocols. First and foremost was protect the human at all costs, shield them from the worst of the wild magic that would burn away their mind and leave them an empty shell of a creature. They were always treated with kindness and generosity before being returned home. From all of the stories of those of his kind who had ventured into the human realm, they were much the same in their hospitality. If he ever did return home he would have to tell his story. It may change the relationship between his people and the humans. Hopefully not too greatly, surely Tony didn't represent all of his kind. But one bad encounter like this could spoil relations for centuries, he'd seen it happen before.

Tony refused to rise to the bait dangled before him. He couldn't afford to any more. The longer they took, the more people would be looking for them. He had hoped to stay in the wildlands until he had passed the lands he knew from his childhood, where Edwin and Anna had looked after him every summer. Now it seemed more and more hopeless. If he could have made it up there sooner he could have had a story ready for Edwin, passing through to head to Briyal, a minor misunderstanding with the Mages Council. Now word was likely to have spread. Every day that they didn't make it past where the witches were was going to be another day for Edwin to hear of the unrest within the Magic Wastes. And he was heading directly towards him.

There was nothing to do about it now. He'd managed to skirt around the young witch's house, at this pace it would take them several more days to even reach Edwin's home, central among the rest of the witches of his coven, or whatever they called themselves. With how spread out they were it would be much more difficult to avoid them all. They could go several more days and then cut Northeast, avoid the witches and the main road, skirt north of Errip and make for Briyal across the grassy plains. If the god wasn't likely to object on little more than principle alone he'd even take some horses to ride, making sure to find who owned them and return them later with a hefty fee for borrowing them. Then again, with the amount of untapped magic potential in the god, there was no telling how horses would react. It may drive them absolutely mad, which would be no good either.

The god was talking again, and Tony was certain that it was more pointed comments designed to get under his skin. Once he recognized the tactic for what it was, he had begun to tune out most of what the god was saying. There was much more to focus on at present. It was a tactic he'd learned as a child, constantly being forced to attend long-winded speeches at dinner parties his father hosted. He was able to work ahead in his studies and keep the calm detached air that seemed to be standard with nobility.

Beside Tony the area fell blessedly quiet. The standard chitter of the small creatures that enjoyed the wildlands was abundant but the god had stopped running his mouth for now. Tony looked over at him. "What should I call you, anyway?"

"Call me captive. Call me bondsman, I'm tied to you by a bond I could never hope to break. I will not give you a name to use over me."

Tony took a deep breath. If he wasn't so worried about the distance they still had left to travel he would have stopped and yelled. It didn't matter what he did, everything the god did was in direct defiance of his wishes. And it wasn't like he could just try saying the opposite of what he wanted, the god was too smart for that. It caused him more frustration than anything else ever had and it was infuriating. "I'm trying to give you the dignity of a name, I don't care if it's actually yours or not. But fine. You won't have one." He understood that names were important, names had power. If this god made one up on the spot it wouldn't give Tony any power over him but it would allow Tony the chance to treat him more like an equal. He was trying here, trying to be a good person amidst everything else falling apart around him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made, teams are decided upon, and a lot of information trades hands.

Clint and Bruce arrived back at Natasha's house with Lanna in tow. Clint was pleased to see Steve and James there, he had known it was a knight and squire. It looked like they had been fed already and small talk had commenced. Serious conversations, of course, had to wait until everyone was present.

Tucked into the pouch at his waist was the device to locate the god. He had finished it and tested it, and much to Bruce's amusement hadn't even noticed that the Kingsmen had shown up while he was working. When he got the chance he was going to show Natasha but until then it was kept safely hidden from view.

"Steve, James, good to see you again. I see you've made it out to the wildlands, welcome," Clint said as he pulled out everything that could possibly be used as a chair. Bruce and Lanna would certainly want to sit, and while he may occasionally perch on the table when it was just him and Natasha, he would never do such a thing in polite company. Even with everything available, he would have to stand, there was nothing for it.

Natasha was in obvious presiding mood. She looked around until she had everyone's attention, a talent Clint wished he'd be able to learn some day. "We're all here for the same reason," she said.

"Are we?" Steve asked.

"A mage has captured a god and is likely keeping him bound against his will. This was the cause of the latest storm. Lanna, tell your superiors whatever you will, if they won't accept the truth then don't use it." She looked coolly back at Steve. "If this isn't why you're here then I'd love to hear what brought you."

"A god?" Steve asked. "I was told that the man and his captive are both dangerous, that he angered the gods, but not that he took one."

Bruce shook his head. "The man himself is probably dangerous, if he's strong enough to bind a god. The god himself, I wouldn't worry about, unless you have actual cause to fear the gods in the first place." Natasha looked him with a raised eyebrow. "I may have run into him in the wildlands. A few times. And possibly knocked out Lord Stark."

"Possibly?" Natasha questioned.

"You've met him?" Timothy nearly yelled. "Did you ask who the god was?"

Natasha had deference to this man, Bruce knew. He did only out of respect to Natasha in her home. He looked at Clint. "The device," he said. Clint produced it from his pouch and set it on the table. "Clint made this roughly based on the compass he had brought to me. This is a token the god gave to me with his name on it," he said, pointing to it floating in the water. "He is called Thor, though I have no doubt he goes by other names as well. Thor isn't one I'm familiar with."

Natasha snatched the improvised compass. She inspected it, turning it every which way, then looked at Clint. "You made this?"

"From parts in Bruce's home, yes."

"Well done." It saved them the distaste of using blood magic to find the god. The magic behind it was sound and strong.

James leaned in to Steve. "The water's not falling out," he whispered.

"Wouldn't travel well if the water all spilled and you had to keep refilling it," Clint leaned in close to say. "Spell to bind the water together, make it believe that the bottom of the bowl is always down." A bit of an oversimplification of things, but it worked to explain the principles of the spells to people who didn't understand magic. He winked at James and sat up.

Natasha had passed the compass off to Timothy who was examining it in detail. He had gained a reputation for being a bit of a tinkerer and craftsman and was enjoying the chance to look over this new thing. It wasn't a toy, definitely not, but it was still quite interesting.

"Thor," Gabe said. "I know the name, though only in passing. If I had my own library here I could check it. I know it's familiar, though. I ran across it recently." He paused for a moment, trying to recall the information, but shook his head. "It won't come to me."

Bruce had already looked through all of the material he had gathered on the gods, coming up with nothing significant. His collection was much better than Natasha's, though he thought he might ask her if she would mind him searching through. Even if they all did go off to find this Lordling and his captured god, he wanted nothing to do with it. He didn't belong in a crowd, he didn't belong with witches, and he certainly wanted nothing to do with a Kingman, a knight, and his squire. There were probably still enough people in power calling for his head, it wasn't worth the risk. Besides which he hadn't let the beast out for some time now, it was growing impatient within him. The short run the other day had not been satisfying enough. How would he possibly be able to explain that to any of the party members? Bad enough that Natasha knew, nobody else needed to share his secret.

"What are you thinking?" Natasha asked, leaning in close to Bruce so none of the others might hear. She had long since learned to read his moods, and his nerves were starting to set her own on edge.

"Someone should stay behind, look through your books for references to Thor," he said. "It should be me. I can get word to you if I know where you're going, but I can't go in a large party like this."

She sighed. "Gabe and Timothy will be staying behind. They'll never keep up with us. James is going to be of no use in the wildlands, he's too put off by magic. Lanna has to return to the city. It leaves three of us without you." She stopped short of voicing her doubts. Without just the three of them, one of whom couldn't even use magic, what hope could they have of bringing down someone who could capture a god? "I won't say you must come, but I'm not afraid to admit that we need you."

Bruce froze. He hadn't expected so few people to come along. Natasha he trusted entirely, and Clint wasn't likely to cause any troubles if his beast escaped. It was just Steve he was unsure about. She was right, though. Three people against a man who could capture a god, it wasn't very promising. "I'll consider it," he said, the best answer he could give at the moment. He didn't trust the King. Kingsmen were only nominally loyal to him out here, but a knight could still cause a lot of problems, given Bruce's past.

"Please do. I'll do whatever is necessary to keep you safe and free if you decide to come." She turned her focus back to the rest of the room. "Alright, so we'll be leaving first thing in the morning. Lanna, take James with you when you return to the city. Gabe, Timothy, you're welcome to stay here and use my library, but if you would rather return to your own homes, I understand that as well. Clint, be prepared to leave tomorrow. Pack for the trip, plan for four for meals, we may have less. James, I hope you've learned something in your trip, we will try to return your knight to you unharmed when we return, though I'm certain that whatever harm comes to him will not be laid at your feet. Steven, we will do whatever is in our power to keep harm from coming to you, but I offer you no promises of safety. And Bruce, you are welcome to join us, remain here, or return to you home as you see fit. You know how to reach me in case of emergency, should you decide to stay behind."

The room exploded into barely controlled chaos. Clint was rushing around trying to make enough beds for everyone. Gabe and Timothy took priority, they were the eldest and the people that Natasha afforded the most respect. They were close enough to each other to share Natasha's bed, though it still took a bit of work to get it ready for two rather than one. The next most respected would be Steven, a knight of the realm. James was helping to find him a place to bed down, he would likely find a place in a corner out of the way and be one of the first to rise in the morning, as would Clint. Bruce and Natasha busied themselves finding their own sleeping spaces, leaving Clint to start pulling out supplies and packing for the trip. It was going to be a long one, there was no way of knowing how long they'd be out in the wilds but it was best to pack for the longest trip possible.

He had been practicing at shrinking charms, but even at smaller sizes, the weight was the same. It was going to be a hard hike. If the strength of the compass pull was any indication, they were still quite a ways away. It was still pointing due north, so it seemed they would be in the wildlands for some time yet before getting to a place where they could safely obtain food or water. Water was easy enough to charm in the wilds, and the hike north through the wildlands was known to Natasha, at least as far as she traveled to the homes of the other witches in her coven. If necessary they would be able to resupply there if they were still on the hunt.

Natasha and Bruce had removed to a corner of the house and were talking quietly. Clint wasn't sure what they were discussing, but it seemed to be quite an animated conversation. Once the bulk of the packing and bed making was done he climbed up into the rafters and curled up in a corner, keeping a watchful eye on the rest of the room.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Thor stop for the night. They argue. Because of course they do. Of course, Thor has some tricks up his sleeve.

Night had fallen by the time Tony allowed them to stop. Thor collapsed heavily against a tree. It was more show than actual exhaustion, but he would go with whatever kind of show was necessary in order to slow them down.

"What's your problem, anyway?" Tony asked, not for the first time. "I just don't get it. Why are you so reticent?"

"Why are you so insistent?" Thor countered. "If you meant me no harm, why then did you summon me, capture me, and bind me? If you assure me I will be free to go, free me now. Else you can transfer my bondage to others, or they can do so forcefully. If you mean me to meet with others, why then did you not summon me while you were among them? Why such a long distance to travel, if not to serve my discomfort?" He stared coolly at the man in front of him. "Everything you have done has been to my discomfort and distress, and yet you persist that you mean me no harm. I'm certain such a benevolent master as yourself would easily forgive me if I have yet to trust his words." He knew all about fostering trust in underlings, this man had done none of that. He wielded power easily, and Thor had been able to guess that he was familiar with it, possibly an actual lord in his own right, but he was new at it. Either that or he had run his own realm into the ground and was now grasping for power by trying to prove he had sway with the gods.

"That's not..." Tony sighed. "I don't..."

"You lack forethought," Thor said. It was the end of his part of the conversation. Let Tony defend himself however he would like, Thor would refuse to acknowledge him.

Tony busied himself, laying all sorts of protective spells. He had no doubt that every day that passed would bring people closer to finding them, especially the closer they went towards the city. But he had to get there. Had to get Thor there. That was probably going to be the end of him, he didn't care. So long as his theories were proven correct, so long as the Mages Guild could see for a fact what bigoted assholes they were being, he had no problems laying down his life. Word would spread. Of course it would. Word always spread. Hopefully it spread fast enough to catch on and didn't fizzle out.

The Young Lord Stark, Stark Raving Mad. He could hear the town criers now, telling the story of the crazy man who sought to destroy the understanding of magic as it was currently known.

"All I'm trying to do is redeem myself," he said quietly once all the wards were in place. "Surely redemption translates across from one realm to the next."

Of course redemption existed in his home. Kidnapping was rarely the means to that particular end, however. More often it was doing some task proscribed by his father or whoever had been wronged. Somehow he doubted this was an option in this case. It was a perceived slight, not an actual one, and those were much harder to recover from. It involved first recognizing that the slight was not real and that the problem existed in his own mind. He strongly doubted that Stark would be willing to admit such a grave fault, especially after the lengths he had gone to already in order to prove himself.

They ate in silence, Thor thoughtfully chewing his food slowly. He took the absolute minimum required, three bites and a few sips of water. It made no difference that Tony gave him more, that nightly he vocally wished his captive would actually eat more and not be put in danger of harming himself through lack of sustenance, but it made no difference. Three bites and a few sips of water were all he required.

"Do you need anything?" Tony asked.

Thor looked up at him without raising his head. It was ridiculous, a bit of pandering to him late in the game. Of course there were things he needed, but they were unlikely to be granted. And the fact that this was the first time that he had ever bothered to ask was more than a bit annoying. It was as though Thor's words from earlier had affected him, but he was in too deep to fully extricate himself. The only option left to him now was to pretend that Thor was an honored guest and could be given whatever he asked for, if only it were possible. In time. He declined to answer, he had had his say on the issue many times.

"Fine. I guess you'll take the first watch. And the second. And won't sleep through while I'm taking the third. I'm going to bed." If they got attacked in the night, the wards should give him enough warning that he could run. Fighting might be an option depending on who was coming, but he was hardly a fighter.

Thor watched this man sleep. If things were different he might feel bad about how he was treating him. His father had always taught him to respect the lower creatures. It was hardly their fault they weren't on the same level as the gods. Still, this one seemed to be working awfully hard to earn the disrespect he was receiving. Thor was confident that when he begged forgiveness from his father for his behavior, it would be given easily. He was doing all he could to thwart his captor without causing any harm to him or the others living in this realm.

Once Tony was fully asleep he began his own work, blending his magic into the wards that Tony had weaved. It was subtle, but it would leave a trace for the man who was following them. The magic would call the talisman. It was unlikely to be noticed by Tony, he had never been too careful to remove his wards in the morning. A lasting testament to his captivity, wards protecting hidden places along the trail he was forced to travel. Hopefully someone from his own realm was watching and would come to his rescue soon as well. Not that he didn't trust the humans to deal with one of their own, but it would take one of his kind to remove him from this body and restore him to his full power and his home.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha's group heads North, following the trail of the God.

They were on the move before first light. Bruce had agreed to come along. The compass was leading them steadily north by northeast. Among them only Bruce was unused to covering a great deal of ground in a short time. He said nothing, however, and fell into step with the rest of the group.

Though Natasha was nominally the leader of the group, she left the bulk of the navigation to Clint. He had designed the magical compass that was guiding them. He was familiar enough with the path that led up to the rest of her coven, which seemed to be where they were headed for now. If the talisman seemed to point slightly more east the further they went, she said nothing. They hadn't overshot yet, and it was best to stick to the known path while they could. The familiarity with the path could give them a great deal of protection should the need arise.

Clint and Steve chose to walk in silence, only commenting on things that the rest of the party should notice. Natasha fell back and motioned for Bruce to follow. She cast a small incantation to muffle their voices. "Be honest with me," she began. "How are you with this?"

"With what?" Bruce asked. "Heading straight up for the territory of the witches? Not too great. Following a man who's strong enough to capture a god and powerful enough in his own right to be called Lord? I'm not fond of that aspect either. Doing it with a knight of the realm? Kind of terrified of that part. But having you by my side? I'm strangely okay with that."

"And Clint?" she asked.

Bruce shrugged as he ducked under some low hanging branches. "He seems capable. He's certainly grown since you took him in. How long has it been now, a year?" Seasons were hard to determine in the wildlands and Natasha had more regular contact with the rest of the world with its fairly regular schedule of seasons and calendars.

"Just over," she said. "Do you think he's ready to lead like this?"

"He built the device on his own. It took me giving him a new way to think about magic, but the work was all his. It's solid, even Timothy commented on the craftsmanship. He's packed for all of us, compressed the bags for ease of carrying, and he's smart enough not to try to take us in a straight line to our target." It hadn't escaped his notice either, how the device kept pointing further to the side but they stuck to the road. Steven had said nothing, and if a knight had not complained about the road they took, who was he?

Natasha nodded. "I might be submitting him to the Coven soon to continue his training in an official capacity." It was hard for her to know if he was ready for such training, or even if he would accept such a thing. "I see him daily. I work with him daily. It's good to know that someone outside his training sees the strengths I do."

Bruce put a hand on Natasha's shoulder. "He is a strong young man. Were I among your coven, I would be proud of the work you had done and pleased to receive him."

"Thank you," Natasha said. She collapsed the muffle spell and motioned for Bruce to move ahead to rejoin the group. They would stop soon enough to take a short rest, she needed to gather her focus in order to prepare the spells they would need for restoration. Clint would certainly fight it, Bruce would try to demur, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Steve would pretend to be a big strong knight who didn't need such things. She would make sure they all fell under the effect of it anyway. They had made such great progress so far. A short rest and a minor revitalization spell would make them able to travel through half the night as well. With luck on their side they would be able to come across the men while they were still in the wildlands and deal with them where they had magic on their side.

They kept going until they were near the edge of Dorothy's domain. Clint called for a rest a carefully calculated distance away from her home. It was near enough that she would know they were there but far enough that he could easily say it was out of their way to visit. Natasha smiled, he had planned ahead for this. She could hardly be blamed for his impudence, and even if she did screech to the coven about disrespect, they could honestly say that the party was on a matter of grave importance and had no time for niceties.

Clint was setting up small seats, the three they had. Once that was done he found some of the dried fruits and meat in the packs and started distributing it. Water was next, and of course he made sure that everyone else had their share before he had his.

"Sit," Natasha told him after she finished her food. She stood and guided Clint to her seat, leaving her hand on his shoulder. She whispered a word which provided him with restfulness and energy.

He looked back at her, confused. This was supposed to be nothing more than a minor break, it wasn't time yet to set up camp for the night or start the evening meal. Why was she spending the energy on refreshing them now? Unless she was planning on hiking through the night until they came on their prey. He nodded with his realization and she smiled at him then moved on.

Once everyone had been given the refreshing spell, Natasha settled in at the base of a tree. Clint started to stand and offer her his seat, but she waved him back into it. Yes he was the apprentice, but he was in charge here and she wanted to make sure he understood that. They were all following his lead. A witch, a magician, and a knight, all following a trainee mage. If there were to be tales told about this in the future, about the intrepid mix of heroes that succeeded in taking down the man who captured a god, she would make sure Clint got his due as the leader of the expedition.

It was a short rest, within fifteen minutes they were back on their feet, but it was also time to leave the path. "It won't be as easy from here," Clint said. "I don't know what we're walking into." He looked directly at Steve. "If we say down, get down. If we start running for shelter, run. Follow. We won't leave you behind, but trust us to deal with a magical attack or storm. We know what we're doing."

Steve nodded, ready to follow along with whatever was necessary. These people survived in the wildlands, they certainly didn't need his protection for anything.

Natasha and Bruce looked at each other, a strange glance between them. There wasn't likely to be another storm unless yet another god was ripped from his home realm. The only attack that would likely come would be from the gods, and in such a case they would only be attacking the man who had captured one of their kind in the first place. Then again, Clint was relatively young and inexperienced. He would still feel the need to impress upon the knight how important it was to follow instruction, especially with how it was impressed on him every time he went out.

The compass led them through the woods. It was further and further away from the Magic Wastes that their trail led them, and with each passing step they could feel the forest start to normalize. It was a subtle thing, but there was less wild magic waiting to be abused here.

Bruce felt it first, the pull to the side. He went up to Clint and put a hand on his arm, stopping him silently. There was something off to their right. It was a day old, but it still strong. Wards, designed for protection and concealment, but somehow their purpose was laid bare and acting as a beacon to other magic users. "Stay here," he told them all quietly. "I'll check this out."

"Should you be going alone?" Steve asked. It was the middle of the night, this man had no idea what he was up against, and he wanted to walk into a dense web of spells.

"Come on," Natasha said to Clint and Steve. She walked them back to a clearing along their path. "He'll be fine." If he chose to unleash the beast within, it would be best if they were out of the way. "We can get a bit of rest." She looked back at Bruce. "Let us know once you've done your piece. We'll be waiting."


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony sleeps uneasily. A storm is brewing, one that even Thor can't predict the outcome of.

Tony slept uneasily. Thor watched him as he lay in the dirt, twitching and moaning at some unseen terror that plagued him. There seemed to be no escape, he didn't seem to be able to wake himself. He was about to wake the man but something stopped him. It was a presence at their previous campsite. Thor reached out to the magic he had left behind, trying to determine who it was.

It was the beast, the one trapped inside the man who had found him before. He was close. With any luck he had brought help and they would be upon him soon. "Please, friend, hasten to me with aid," he whispered to the air. It wasn't like at home, the wind likely wouldn't carry his words to their intended, but it could never hurt to try.

He looked up at the sky. He could feel a storm coming, right down to his bones, but the land gave no indication that it would be soon. Hopefully it would give him cause to delay their flight but not delay their pursuers. If there was any mercy in this situation, the storm would bring him the sustenance he craved.

At the beginning of their flight he had not needed food. Now he feigned the same, but hunger was starting to grow within him. Part of it was a physical hunger but part of it was something more, something deeper. He longed for his home, for the power he had there. The ability to make decisions about his own life and fate, the freedom to go and do as he wished. Here it was taken from him, but he dealt with his fate with what he hoped was composure and compassion. He was not cruel to his captor, nor was he overly rude. He understood the man's decision to do what he had done, though he hardly agreed with it.

When he returned home he would beg forgiveness from his father for any wrongdoing he had committed in this realm. Hopefully he would be forgiven, though he didn't think there would be many faults to be forgiven for. He had delayed their travel, but only to be saved by those who offered him help. He let his name be known to a human, but again only because of the promise of salvation.

Thor settled back in against the tree. He feigned sleep, still enough to fool anyone who didn't know him, but still constantly alert and wakeful. He didn't yet trust this realm enough to sleep deeply.

Tony awoke with a start, yelling and sitting upright immediately. He looked around their small campsite. Nothing appeared to be out of place in the dim light, but something felt off. His dreams of late had been filled with clouds heavy with rain. The sky around him had crackled with thunder as he stood naked and alone on an empty plain. He dug his fingers into the top layer of earth, moist and soft, to prove to himself that the hard packed dirt, dry and cracked, was a product of his dream and hadn't come back with him into the waking world.

He looked over at Thor, still propped up against the tree had fallen asleep against. It didn't look like he had moved since they set up camp. He stood up and stretched, taking in a deep breath of the cool night air. The stars in the sky told him that it was still several hours before dawn, a time he was rarely awake these days, especially if he was on a hike, but he was familiar enough with the constellations to use them as a timepiece if necessary. It had been part of his training.

He stepped outside the wards, somewhere suitably far away from the camp and the lingering residue of the nightmares. "Father," he whispered to the sky. "I'm sorry. It looks like everything I do I'm going to end up failing you. Please, Father, be proud of me. For once in my life, see what I'm doing and support me. Please." He fell to his knees among the trees as though waiting for a sign from his father. Nothing came, no parting of the clouds or lights from the heavens. All he was left with was a bleak emptiness and the vague sensation that something was still terribly wrong.

The storm in his dream had seemed to follow him. It was the feeling in the air, the crackling electricity that had no release. The magic sang to him, begging to be freed and unleashed upon the rest of the world. He'd never heard it so clearly as now, but he didn't dare follow through yet. There was no sense in taking risks and attracting more attention to himself, not if he didn't have to. It was much easier to follow through, show the Council of Mages that the devices he wanted to build to harness magic weren't going to bring down the wrath of the gods. Then he could come back and unleash the magic, proving the need for them. It made sense, and he would live to see the necessity for these devices grow.

Dawn was hours away and he had nothing to do now but go back to sleep. No sense in keeping watch if they had to push on again tomorrow. His wards would let him know if anyone came upon them unexpectedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end, but this may end up being an extra chapter long, if I can polish up the epilogue properly.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce lets his inner beast out to hunt. The heroes are closer than they think to Tony and Thor.

There was the smell of magic in the air. Shaped magic, human magic, not what ran loose through the woods by nature. It danced in his nose, promising something so much more. He threw his head back and ran, loping through the area. Friends were safe. Friends were not to be followed. Friends were to be left alone. But god-friend must be found. That was what he wanted. To find the god-friend. To follow the magic, to find the man who shaped it. To find the man who bound god-friend.

The beast was more intelligent than Smallman gave him credit for. He knew his own limitations and kept vague memories of the man. It was how he knew what was needed. Find the god-friend. Leave the friends alone. He never destroyed the Smallman-home when he was loose, and he always kept Smallman-food safe. But now man needed him. He was useful, he wasn't something to be kept away, hidden. He was good.

He stooped down to the ground, getting the smell of the magic that was left behind. This was no man magic. There was the lingering shape of man magic, but this felt like god-friend. It was much stronger than man magic. More powerful than Smallman knew how to be. He headed out in widening arcs away from the friends. There, clues as to a passing. Here, broken branches and the stagnant remains of a simple refreshment spell.

The trees seemed to pass by him at an astronomical rate, he relished being let loose and free, allowed to run, though he stopped himself from calling out to the sky in his joy. It would do no good and might scare the prey away. The god-friend's captor.

Wind whipped by his face as he ran. Now that he had found the trail it was simple to follow. He stopped short suddenly when the smell of the captor became stronger. He had stood here. Recently. Now was the careful part, probing without setting off the wards designed to alert the captor of human presence. But he wasn't human, not any more. His man was human, but he was something else entirely. Something that came from magic and would return to magic long after his man was gone. He could slip through the weave of the wards, ignoring the way men tended to break or change the shape. He simply flowed through as pure magic, passing by without disturbing a thing.

God-friend was there, feigning sleep. His captor was asleep, and in a turbulent sleep. The captor twitched and made soft noises of terror. He allowed himself to expand beyond his physical body, looming over the sleeping figure, menacing. God-friend looked up, momentarily disturbed, then caught sight of him. God-friend smiled.

"Ah," he whispered. "I take it your friends are close?"

"Very," he said, approximating human form again. "Tomorrow. Soon."

"Good," replied god-friend. "Go now, before he wakes. I will see you again soon, my faithful friend."

He turned and slipped from the camp. It was a short run back to where friends were but he took his time. The more he pushed himself now, the less energy his man would have. They needed to move fast to save god-friend, and that would mean more energy. When he was near his friends again he pushed himself away, leaving only the memories of what the man would need to lead them. The shape and size of the wards would be no issue, with this group of friends they would arrive shortly after the camp was broken and the wards were rendered useless again.

Natasha noticed him first. She smiled and crossed the clearing to Bruce's side. "Good hunt?"

"I think so," he replied.

She led him to sit next to a tree. Clint had prepared some food and saved a portion aside and Natasha was ready with another spell to give him the energy he needed. "Do you need rest tonight?"

"A few hours," he said. "Nothing more. And that's because of..." he paused, thinking over his words carefully. "We have to come across them after they've broken camp. We can't get there too soon. Timing is important."

Natasha nodded. "Understood. Eat, sleep. We'll keep watch tonight, you need rest."

Clint came by as Natasha stepped away. He had a bedroll and pillow. "Here. Over there, under the pine tree, it's pretty soft. It'll probably be comfortable there."

Bruce looked at the tree he was indicating. There was a large pile of discarded needles under it, and he knew from experience that they made a soft bed with a strong enough layer to protect him from the sharp ends. It looked perfect. Even with the food and the effort that the beast had made to leave him energy, he was exhausted. They'd gone on long enough already today, and tomorrow promised to be just as interesting.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throw a Loki into the mix and we might finally get some closure.

Tony froze as he began the process of taking down the wards. Something was different. He glared over at the god. "What did you do last night?"

"Rested," Thor replied. "Nothing more."

Tony tested the wards. There was nothing wrong with him that he could tell, but something wasn't the same. He narrowed his eyes at the god as he finished the process. Something had happened and the god knew about it, but there was no point in asking about it. Whatever answer he gave would be an outright lie or so carefully crafted so as to obfuscate the answer and change the scope of the question along with it.

"Come on," Tony barked. "We're going." He wanted to get as far away as possible before whatever had changed his wards came back. If they headed directly east from here they'd pick up the main road and probably be well on their way to Briyal before even the Kingsmen or knights came upon them. There was still an urgency that he couldn't quite get across to the god, and it was starting to seriously piss him off. He stalked off towards the road, expecting the god to follow him. If he didn't, oh well. Tony had enough momentum going that he could break through the first resistance and enough stubbornness that he could ignore the extreme discomfort. It was nothing worse than he had grown up with.

Thor rushed to Tony's side, getting them closer together. He refused to put a hand on this human, for fear that he may actually cause him harm. It would be much easier to ask forgiveness from his father if he didn't actually harm his captor, so all he did was make faces. Not that Tony noticed them, or would pay them any mind if he did. No, faces were his own way of expressing such intense displeasure without actually complaining loudly about it.

A storm was coming. Tony could still feel it. It was more than his dream, it permeated his entire being at this point. Yet another reason to get out to the main road, well away from the wildlands. A second magic storm so soon could be disastrous and he wanted nothing to do with being around to witness it. His father's man had taught him some things, and what he wasn't able to, his wife had filled in. It really was a pity they couldn't stop by and visit her, though he doubted she'd understand what he was trying to do. She definitely wouldn't approve. He scoffed loudly. "Who needs her approval anyway?" he asked to the woods in general. A crow called from the branches. "Yes, well, I don't need hers either, and you can damn well tell her I said so!" Tony shouted.

Thor wondered at his behavior. The crow who had called wasn't a magical one, it was nothing more than a simple bird. He had felt a magical crow following them, trying to find them, but unable to. Now he was glad he hadn't called to it. If his captor was this unstable with a normal one, there was no telling how he would actually react to a magical creature. He was also suddenly glad that Tony slept through the beast's visit last night.

He could feel the group long before they overtook him in the road. His token called to him, the closer it was the stronger he could feel the pull. They were quiet, though, and for this he was thankful. Now all he needed was a distraction for Tony to stop alongside the road. It was easy enough, all he had to do was feign a fall, pretend that his ankle was twisted and that he had to rest.

There was a loud clap of thunder and a wave of energy which knocked both of the men to the ground. Thor rolled over, expecting Bruce or one of his companions. Instead he faced his brother in a guise he had not seen in thousands of years. "Loki?" he gasped.

"You seem surprised to see me, brother," Loki replied. He waved his hand and Tony was left hanging in midair. "I've come to avenge you."

"This is not the way," Thor said, stumbling to his feet. "Did father send you?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "I'll go crawling back to him once I've had my revenge. He'll forgive me. Won't have much of choice, really. What a pity."

"What are you planning?" Thor roared.

"Nothing more than simple revenge. A man took my brother from me. I'll take what he loves most from him." He looked at Tony, spinning him slowly. "It would seem what he loves most is himself."

Tony looked terrified. He opened his mouth as if to scream but no sound came out. The more he flailed and fought against whatever was suspending him, the less effect it seemed to have.

"Hush, mortal," Loki sneered. "You'll only serve to alert the others."

"They know where I am," Thor said. "They're near and will come for me."

There was a rustling in the underbrush to their side. Loki looked over and smiled. "Oh, hello there, pet," he said, coaxing the beast out into the open. "Yes, brother, I know all about your friends. This one in particular was who led me to you." He reached out and patted the beast on the head. The rest of the group came out as Loki beckoned.

Steve looked nearly as frightened as Tony, but he was trying harder to hide it. Clint made no such show and allowed himself to look vaguely scandalized as well. Natasha was rolling her eyes at the whole thing. Dorothy had often controlled her like this when she was growing up. She hadn't been so thoroughly unable to break the bonds in many years, but if this Loki character intended for them to die, they would be dead whether or not she was free. There was no use wasting energy now.

"Clint, stop fighting," she said, and was surprised to hear her own voice. "Save your strength."

Thor looked at the small group of people. He could see Bruce trying to fight his way back into control of the beast's body. Four of them. Was that all they had to mount a rescue? It was a pitifully small group, though he could feel the magical potential in at least three of them. Stronger than most humans he'd seen. His rescuers. There was a well of fondness he had for them in that instant, that they would risk so much to come after someone they knew not.

"Brother, it's been fun, but I won't involve you in this any further. This one will die," he said, pointing to Tony. "I will appeal to your father's good sense and he will welcome me back with open arms."

Thor's eyes narrowed. "Not for vengeance. Not like this, bullying someone so much weaker than yourself. Why would he forgive you that?"

Loki smiled. It was all teeth and danger, malice buried in a polite facade. "Why, brother, in all the excitement I must have forgotten to tell you. This human, the one who caught you so unawares, did such a wonderful job of summoning you and binding you to this plane. It cannot be undone. Your father has tried. He summoned me to try. And when I asked what I could possibly do that he, the father of all, could not, he told me I was never his child, I was from yet another realm that he plundered and destroyed. I am stronger than he, and with you out of the picture, he will need the strongest to help him lead. The Fount of Souls is growing larger every day, brother, or had you forgotten? No, he cannot risk losing me, not after you are lost to him forever. And I pray to whatever gods may exist from my realm, whatever power there may be higher than myself, that my constant presence at his side is a painful thorn, one that serves to wound him daily whenever he sets his eyes on me."

Blood started to drip from Tony's nose slowly. He stared at the group as he spun, silently pleading for his life.

"Loki, this is madness!" Thor screamed. He stood up and strode towards his brother who vanished immediately without a trace.

Tony fell to the ground, landing with a snap and a scream of pain. His face was white where it wasn't bloody. Thor fell to his knees as well, but with enough presence of mind to wave off everyone else. Tony was injured, he was just overwhelmed. Tony needed attention. He needed quiet to hear his father's words.

Natasha rushed to Tony's side, kneeling beside him. She steadied him as he tried to sit up, but ended up rolling onto his back. "Easy, keep breathing. Stay with me, okay?" She waited until he nodded. "Your arm's broken. Hold still, I'll help you with the pain." She had long since mastered spells to abate pain, but this one would call for the strongest one she could manage. She leaned over him and whispered the words, drawing the power from the air around her. It was weaker here, further from the Magical Wastes, but plenty strong enough to let the man breathe easily again.

"Who are you?" Tony asked, afraid to move. There was an honest to god knight standing over him. A knight and a crazy lady who had taken his pain away, and really only a witch would be able to do that so easily. "Who's your creepy man beast friend?"

"You are young Lord Stark, yes?" Natasha asked. "The man who captured a god?" She waited, but he didn't respond immediately. "Of course you are. Your arrogance speaks volumes. That and my friend recognizes the god." She looked up. "Clint, go get me some thin branches. Strong." She looked to Steve. "Can your knife cut fabric?"

"Of course it can," he replied.

"Good. Cut some strips. Half a hands breadth wide, from your fingertip to elbow long. As many as you can from my spare clothes." She turned to Bruce. "We need a fire and some food going. Can you do that?"

He smiled weakly at her. "Of course." It was the easiest job, he knew it. Clint would be in charge of caring for their injured prisoner, the god, and setting up camp. Steve would also be on prisoner guard duty, he would accept nothing less. As with any other time the beast took control, he was drained afterwards. Preparing a meal would be the simplest task but would keep him focused. He went and knelt beside the god. When Thor looked back up at him, he smiled. "Will you eat with us?"

"Don't bother," Tony said. "It's useless. He's stubborn, won't eat or drink anything."

Thor met Bruce's eyes. "Friend, I would love to break my fast with you." He had received all the information he had needed from his father, everything that would be forthcoming. Loki was banished for what he had attempted, but he had been correct that there was no way to return Thor to his own realm. The binding had been too thorough. His father had removed the last bit of divinity still in him and left him with an imbuing of magic well beyond most on this plane, but still a mortal. He stood and offered Bruce a hand. "I will help you prepare it, though I'm afraid I will have to be taught a great deal."

"Of course," Bruce said. "I'll teach you whatever I can."

Tony was appalled. How was it that these people came in to ruin his plan and ended up making friends with the god so easily? He didn't even know the guy's name after all this time and this interloper was already going to teach him things. "Yeah, well, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed when he has to come with me to..." Tony glanced up at the knight. "You're taking me back to Briyal, aren't you?"

Steve smiled and drew his sword. A lady had asked a favor of him, and he wasn't in any mood to disappoint her. "We'll get there, once you're all patched up." He could send word back with these people for James for him to bring the horses back home. He started working on the fabric that Natasha had indicated, slicing it into strips and shaking the worst of the dirt and grass off of them.

"That should be enough, thank you," Natasha said when she saw the pile. Clint had come back with the branches and they were sitting out beside Tony's broken arm. She looked down at Tony. "I can give you more of the pain blocking spell, or I can have Clint make something with what we have on hand if you'd like. Before we do this."

He shook his head and fitted his teeth. Whatever this witch had in store for him, it couldn't be worse than the actual pain already was.

She raised an eyebrow. "As you wish," she said. "Clint, hold his elbow down. Steven, if you please, restrain his other arm. I don't want him flailing about and hurting anyone else." She waited until the men were in position then grabbed his forearm at the top and bottom and pulled. Tony screamed then went completely limp, unconscious from the pain. "Good," she muttered, shifting his arm carefully until she was satisfied with how things had aligned. She tied the branches in place carefully, making sure there was plenty of padding to prevent further injury. She tied his arm firmly to his chest to keep him from moving it accidentally in his sleep or when he woke up. "Clint, help me get him set upright, over in the ditch there."

Thor and Bruce had nearly finished a meal by the time others had Tony settled gently, covered in blankets. The meal was simple, a hot herbal tea with hard bread and dried meat, but it was satisfying.

"So what now?" Steve asked after they had finished. "I have to take Lord Stark to the King. Are you all going to return home? Or will you come speak before the King about what happened?"

Bruce visibly paled at the suggestion. Natasha spoke up. "We're simple people in the wildlands," she said. "We wouldn't have the first clue how to act around a king, and our story would certainly be nearly unbelievable."

Steve could see through the ruse. He understood exactly why these people kept to themselves and chose not to come with him. "Will you pass word to James, then? Tell him to return home along the main roads, I will either meet him along the way or see him when he returns."

Natasha nodded. She could send Clint into town to pass the word along. "Of course we will."

Clint turned to look at Thor. "What of you, friend? Are you still bound to your captor?"

A smile spread slowly across Thor's face. "No. My brother was correct, I am now confined to live in this realm as a mortal, but my bond to him was severed. I am free to do as I please." He looked around the woods uncertainly. "Though I hardly know what I please to do."

"Come with us," Bruce offered. "There's plenty of room for you to stay with me. You can learn about this world. If you decide to stay with me, you're welcome, but if you ever decide to leave you will always have a place to return to. A home."

A home. It sounded nice. He already knew the secret Bruce tried to keep from the world, that of the beast inside, and had no fear of it. "I think I would like that," he said.

"We'll rest today," Steve offered. They had enough food for a much longer trip. "Reallocate gear. Tomorrow we part ways."

Natasha nodded. It was the best choice. She would take her group the same way they had come, skirting well to the south of Dorothy's home. There was no need to bring the god to her, if she refused the invitation to come to Natasha's to take part in the planning, she could hear about it from other sources when they returned.

Tony woke up later in the afternoon. He complained, he railed against the injustice that had been piled upon him, and he found himself without a voice. He stood and stomped his feet, ignoring the blinding pain that it caused his arm. None of the other users of magic in the group made any indication that they were responsible for it.

"Effective," Natasha said. "This way he can't cast any spells on the way back to face the King."

"Hope whoever did it included a timed aspect to let it off by then," Bruce added.

Thor nodded. "Aye, it would be unfortunate indeed if he lost his ability to speak for life."

Clint just nodded in agreement. He had been the one to master the silencing spell during his time at the Mages academy, none had performed it better. It would wear off in three days time, plenty of time to get him to the King. He could explain himself then, why he had captured a God on a lark.

Clint understood what Tony was trying to do. He'd seen what the man was capable of, had heard the stories of devices designed so carefully so as to make many professions obsolete. He understood the fear that the rest of the world had, but he also knew the desire to grow and thrive, to be acknowledged for what had been done. Still, he was an insufferable asshole with how he had gone about what he did. If the King desired to see him, the King would see him, safe and sound. And hey, if Clint got a new friend out of the whole ordeal, all the better.

It was an uneventful walk home. Gabe and Timothy were still waiting at Natasha's house, surprised to find them returned so soon. "How did it go?" Timothy asked them as they settled in, tired after a day on their feet.

"It was interesting," Bruce said.

Final plans were made for the next day. Bruce would return with Thor to his home. Clint would head to the city to pass word on to James. Timothy and Gabe would return home. And with any luck, life would return to its new normal.


End file.
